Dreams of the Sky Pirate FFXII Balthier
by Intwilight
Summary: Fidel tries to escape a past that just won't go away. Her flight takes her to the royal city of Rabanastre where she disguises herself as an actress. Unfortunately, the enemy is one step ahead... BalthierxOC [slight edit]
1. Chapter 1

I slipped the sleeping potion into the crystal glass water, not enough to kill her, but just enough to make her sleep all throughout the play. Careful not to drop the bottle in my anxiety, I corked the bottle and tucked a lock of my short red hair back behind an ear, irritated that it continues to fall over my eyes. It was time to put my plan into action.

I lifted the tray up, hands quivering slightly, heart pounding like a drum. I walked out of the kitchen and down the hall.

I slip down the next hallway, walking from heel to toe, back stiff and proper, trying to look as though I fit into this aristocratic lifestyle. But I'm not really the prim and proper type. The hall winds away, bigger than any other I've ever seen, and I count the numbers on the doors, looking for the right one, hoping I wasn't lost.

_234, 236, 238, **240**. _This was it...

I pause outside of the dressing room, inhale a mouthful of air as though it would be my last, and knock. There was a long pause before anyone answered, and I wonder vaguely if I had come to the wrong room. If my memory had not served me right. Wouldn't be the first or the last time.

"Come in!" Snaps the actress, and I open the door, trying hard not to spill the tainted water in my hurry. Her room is a disaster of roses, costumes, love letters, and what not from her performances in the past, littering each inch by inch of the room. She sits in front of a mirror, applying her make up. "What is it?" She says in her cold and crisp voice.

"Water...your instructor says to down some before the show... She says it'll help your voice." The young lady, 17, my age, slips me a condescending glance and then raises her eyebrows.

"I don't need you to sit there and preach!" She says and stands up little hands twisted into small fists. She approaches me and takes the little glass in her hand. I wonder if the sleeping potion might be too concentrated for the blandness of the water, and by the look on her face I was right. "That stuff was horrible!" She spits. "Poison!"

"Was it?" I say stiffly, nervousness growing up to catch me in the throat.

"Yes, terrible! And I have never seen you around here before either. Why does no one tell me these things? New house maids and awful water, whatever can plague me next?" Her voice begins to go from high to low like a boat on the ocean as the potent drink began to affect her thinking. Her eyes began to droop. "Tired." She said, only half aware of what she was saying.

"A cold maybe?" I offer. "Hope not, that would be bad right before you go on." I try to sound concerned. Her eyes flicker.

"What would you know about colds, peasant?" She spits, tossing her furious little head at me. One of her soft and hands shakes madly, and she puts it on the dresser next to her for support. "You did something to it, didn't you?" She says, jabbing a quivering finger at me, and I could tell she was trying hard not to vomit. "You little-"

"M-miss, you digress. Sit and relax. You may have a fever, and we wouldn't want you bumbling about on stage." I try to calm myself, hoping all the while that she wouldn't call for help.

"Don't touch me, maggot! I can find the seat on my-" Her legs gave out as sleep and sickness took hold. I hurriedly removed the costume she wore and left her in her underwear, trying hard to keep even a little of her modesty.

I then dragged the sleeping girl to a closet and shut her inside. I locked the door, putting a chair up against the handle to keep anyone from getting in or out. After I was certain the chair would hold, I start to do myself up, curling my hair into ringlets, wincing as I burn my scalp with the hot hair iron.

A knock at the door disrupts the silence in the room. Nervously I answer, heart beating quick.

"Who is it?" I call.

"You know silly!" The door opens and I turn to great my co-actress. She looks at me puzzled for a few moments, and I move into the hall so she can't see the barred up door. "But where is-" She begins.

"Sick." I say briskly. "A sudden cold I hear. Her voice is totally gone..." I pause a moment. " I am her understudy." I quickly add.

"I didn't know she even had an understudy." She looks me up and down with contempt. "Well, you had better do a good job of her part. Don't, and it might cost you your career." The young woman suddenly became very frosty and porcupine like. With that, she leaves down the hall and I retreat back into the dressing room.

"Don't count on seeing me act again anyway." I mutter under my breath, biting my lip at the soft sound of snoring coming from the closet.

* * *

The blaring lights of the stage hit my eyes, blinding me as I converse with another actor on stage. Lights are the least of my problems. I feel confident as I speak, but my eyes continue to wander to the audience in worry. I have one chance to pull this off. One chance. 

I toss my hair around playfully as the flirtatious Miss. Maggrose, the lady I play, leans over to slip her would be suitor a note, stamped with official looking wax. I study the other actor's face for a brief moment, but find no resemblance between him and the man I search for.

"My dear lady!" Says the man playing the Youth Abelwood. "There is no need for such secrecy."

"I'm afraid that when you speak to me, everything must be kept secret." I say and stand up from the bench we are both sitting on. "Farewell Abelwood, and may our paths not cross again until the time is better suited for it." I turn and exist through stage right. A few moments later I can hear Abelwood's big court scene starting. I quickly change for the next scene with the help of a few stage hands before deciding to explore.

"Wait, you'll be on in nine minutes!" A stage hand whispers.

"Just a moment, I need some water. The next scene is a big one and I need to keep my voice up. I'll be back in a flash." I quickly leave before I encounter further questions.

I enter the grand castle's hallway, marveling at the sheer size of the interior. The actors and actresses are here performing for the nobles and royalty in the city, hoping to earn more recognition.

The castle of Rabanastre is a site and a half. Placed in the midst of this large and beautiful city filled with bustling people and shops of the most intriguing items, it stands proudly among them all. But my time of admiration is limited. I hoist the dress I wear, long and golden, up around my knees and hurry to the changing rooms in the hopes of finding the man I seek. I think I heard someone tell a fellow actor that they were going down that way.

_Seven minutes until I'm back on._

I hurry down a long hallway and swing a right. The changing rooms. Finally.

All the doors are tightly closed, as they should be, and I hear no sound coming from them to suggest life on the other side. I walk down this hall a little more slowly than I should, watching my shadow walking adjacent to me on the wall. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I feel eyes boring into it. I turn to see who is there, but find I am alone still.

A shiver runs up and down my spine, and I turn around, heart palpitating. I quicken pace a bit and look at each door, hoping to stumble across something. The lights in the hall are dim and cast eerie and twisted shadows on the faded navy blue carpet. The arching ceilings and pillars placed every so often loom above me, trying fiercely to add more fright into my heart.

_Something _doesn't feel right, and I cannot put my finger on what it may be. The air feels thick and heavy, not with scent, but with feeling. With energy. Again, I feel the eyes watching me, and it is all I can do to keep myself from glancing behind me, letting slip a scream.

_I have about four minutes before I need to go back._

About to give up, I swing around to leave, but a spot on the carpet in front of me causes me to stop. I stoop down and softly dip my fingers in the carpet, feeling a wet substance cling to my finger tips. I lift them to my face and study the liquid. Blood. Heart racing even more, I stand up and comb the floor for more evidence of blood. I find more spots, like freckles, leading to a door, slightly ajar unlike the rest. The room inside is as black as pitch and I am lucky to have noticed the slight crack. I can feel myself freezing up in fear as I stare down the wood. With a shaky hand I knock softly.

"Hello? Is anyone in there?" No one speaks. "Hello? Sir? Miss?" Not a sound. I still listen, swallowing the nervous lump growing my throat. Cautiously, I push open the door, and find it will not swing all the way for something blocks the entrance. I look down and see a foot on the other side of the door. The foot belongs to a man who lies on the ground. Or the foot of someone who was once a man. He lies face up on the carpet, eyes wide, forever to stay there as the death mask of the forever sleep has taken him. His muscles appear tense, face paled, lips loosing their red to fade to blue. He had been dead for hours.

I look over the man and see his throat was slit, and he has other stabs in his chest. I am filled with his gruesome image and the horror of the situation makes me want to be sick. What scares me even more is that he is the man I was looking for, and him being dead could only mean one thing.

_They've found me._

I back out of the room, a little numb. No matter how many times you see the dead, nothing really can prepare you for what may lie on the other side of that door.

Slowly, I turn and walk away, steps hurried, head bowed.

My retreat takes me back to the stage area, and it is not long before a stage hand whisks me inside and to stage left.

"You almost missed your cue!" She snaps in my ear. "Be more aware of the time!" I have hardly ten seconds to wait before I am pushed onto the stage by angry hands, and I almost trip. What am I to do? I am on stage and whom ever seeks me must be watching. How can I focus now?

"My dear sister!" Cries the man who plays my elder brother, Lasserius. "Where have you been? The hour grows later by the minute, and it was to my horror that I found you out of bed. Promise me that you were not with that scoundrel Abelwood again." My heart flutters a bit as I struggle for my line. I busy myself by giving him a most reproachful look and taking a seat by our pretend fire. Not something in the script I might add.

"Keep your nose out of my business, dear brother. It is mine and mine alone." I make up the lines as I go, basing them on a faint memory of the original ones. The actor looks a little shaky at my improvisation. I can hear somebody far off stage feeding me my lines, but I can't hear the words well enough to make them out.

"It _ is _ my business! You are not to be wandering with strange men who-" I cut him off in mid sentence, also improvisation.

"He is far from a stranger, I have known him for many summers and you know that as well as I. True?" I stand up angrily, but not for the sake of acting. It was to catch sight of a man sitting in the first row. I make out a tweed coat and shiny bald head. With a sinking feeling I realize who the man is. My main focus now is to get off the stage as soon as I can and run.

"You speak through the devil's own mouth!" The actor slaps me across the face and I pretend to jerk with pain. We are now back on the script and safe ground.

"Maybe it is you who are the devil!" I cry.

"I would not speak so my little sister." With a strong hand he brings my face up to his. "Speak to me in such a way again, and I will send you away to work for the army! Would you like that? Suffer our youngest brother's fate? Death by a steely sword and a metal bullet? Which ever hits you first? Not that I care, you ungrateful wretch of a woman!" His words are hissed like a snake, but just loud enough for the audience to hear.

"Die. A thousand times. Die. The man I love does not love me, and yet another would seek my hand. You know nothing of retches and vile servants. You are the devil, brother, not I." I breathe, and he lets go of my face before leaving the stage. My character fumes and curses under her breath before turning to the audience to speak. My eyes stare off into the blackness, speaking to no one but myself. The talking turns into a song. I sing well enough, nothing amazing, but it'll do for a play.

As it ends, the audience applauds with loud beats of their hands, and whistles in approval. I turn and leave the stage which darkens. I am not on for about twenty minutes now, and I have time to run.

"I have to go." I whisper to a stage hand. They turn to look at me with surprise and panic blossoming in their face.

"Go? You only just realize this now? Why didn't you tell someone before we got halfway through the play!" They snap and I shake my head.

"Last minute thing. Look I really have to go." I turn to leave but they catch me by the arm.

"And just who will play the part?!"

I shrug.

"You?" I hurry off and hear her last calling words to me to take off the dress, but I have no time. It is intermission and this will likely be the time when something will happen, for good or ill. I decide to take a back stair out of the castle, one I have not seen anyone use all night. I map out my direction in my head as I run from hall to hall, praying I won't bump into anyone. I run up a flight of stairs, dress hitched around my ankles and push open a door with my shoulder.

I still haven't shaken the feeling that someone is watching me, and as far as I can see there is no one in the maze of hallways but me. All the guests are below, even the guards. I turn left and then up another hall, not bothering to look at the large wall paintings spanning either side of me.

I come to a split in the maze, one hall leading right and the other left. I take the left one and run down it as far as I can until I am forced to turn right, heading for another staircase. At the base of the stair, I stop and look around. This looks nothing like the other parts of the castle I've been in. And then I hear a door close, either from above or the one I just came through, I cannot tell.

Heart thumping, I look back to the direction I just came in and then up to the floor above. I can hear voices from somewhere, hushed and barely audible. Feet walking seemingly on their own. I sprint up the stairs. My face is flushed and I'm out of breath from all this running. I don't know how much more I can take.

I reach the top of the stair and see a chain blocking the rest of the upper floors to guests. I look over my shoulder and I can now tell that the walkers are behind me. Rather than risk being caught and dragged back to acting, I duck under the chain and run along the corridor ahead of me, taking the first left I come to. All that runs ahead of me is a long passageway of doors leading to what, I do not know. Just then I hear the jingle of a chain move as someone shifts it, but just ever so slightly. Feeling all the muscles in my legs tense, ready to run again, I sprint down the length of the hall and stop at a door to try and open it. The door lets out a soft moan that does not carry far, and I slip inside the dimly illuminated room.

I stand in a circular chamber with a round and comfortable looking table in the middle. Chairs are pushes into the table's sides and the marble floor reflects the fire burning up in a glass light hanging from above. Maps and swords are draped from the walls and glass cases house helms and suits of armor that are neatly placed around the circular room. The chamber was incredibly large.

I walk further into the room, staring up at the arched ceiling painted with gold leaf which shimmers in the amber light. As I walk in awe, I didn't notice the table approaching and I bump into it softly. Startled, I look down on the beautifully carved wood and notice something glinting in the light. I reach out a hand and take it up. In my hand lay a small crystal blue dagger, about an inch and a half long. The dagger was strung on a silver chain, equally as beautiful. Holding the blue beauty up to the light, I watch it sparkle and send blue light dancing along the walls around. I string the silver chain and dagger around my neck, the blade disappearing under the dress's collar.

And it's then that I hear footsteps stopping outside the door. I look to it, heart beating so fast I think it might burst. Hurriedly, I look for a place to hide, but find only clear glass cases. And then I remember the table. I stoop down and slowly push away a few chairs so I can clamber beneath the wood and hide. Not a moment too soon either. The door slowly groans as two characters slip inside and shut the door. I peer between the chair legs to see who they are, but only see boots and legs. It is to my relief that I see that they are not the man I flee from or an accomplice. But just who are they?

"Are you sure it's here?" Says the whispered voice of a man.

"Positive. I feel it." Speaks the voice of a woman with a strange accent of another race. I listen as her shoes softly click upon the ground and stop in front of my chair. The man walks up next to her, his boots quieter still than hers.

"Then were would it be?" The man said interestedly. I stroke the chain around my neck protectively wondering if it was the dagger that they were seeking. Even if it was, it was mine now.

The lady takes a step back a moment and I quietly push myself backward as well, trying to blend into the darkness. My foot hits a chair, causing the hunk of wood to squeal along the ground a little.

"Do chairs usually move around on their own?" I hear the man ask quizzically with a touch of amusement in his voice. The woman next to him does not answer but stoops down to look under the table. I close my eyes, praying that I go unseen, melt into the darkness. But I do not vanish.

Chairs squeak out of place in a flurry of fast movement, and a strong hand fastens itself around my throat dragging me out from under the table. I choke, trying to breathe.

"Well, well, well, who do we have here?" Asks the man. I look onto my capture and take in the slightly tanned skin, piercing eyes, white flowing hair that falls far down her back in a mane like fashion, two large rabbit ears, and a slightly upturned nose. A viera.

"A hume." Says the viera.

"Obviously." The man says, coming to stand next to his friend. My eyes frantically go to the man's face and I half expect to see another viera, but it is just another hume. His eyes are a casual light brown, laid back and clever looking, his hair is a light chestnut color, short and spiky. His ears are covered in piercing, small hoops and hanging things, and his fingers dawn few rings. "And I believe she is an actor in the play. An actress I should say, my apologies." He studies my face a little and nods. "Indeed, and may I ask as to why you are sneaking around this place? Show starts in ten minutes." He folds his arms. The viera woman puts me down and watches me with reproach.

"Could ask you the same." I say in a slight rasp, feeling the skin at my throat.

"Good point." The man says.

"You had best be off back to the play." The viera says with a warning look to the man. "It is a long way from here to the stage." I nod, grateful to be let off so easily. I walk away.

"And how about we keep this meeting our little secret shall we?" The man says after me.

"Whatever." I say hurriedly and reach the door. With a swift tug, it opens and I slip out like a shadow, not looking back to the two I just left.

* * *

???'s POV

I look to Fran who's eye have just become a little narrower and watch as her ears twitch a little.

"She had it, didn't she?" I say bitterly, looking to the door that our new target just left. Fran nods.

"Indeed she does." Says Fran rather darkly. I smile a little.

"Typical is it not? Well, what shall we do about this little problem? Can't let her get away otherwise we'll never escape."

"Kidnap her then?" Fran looks a little doubtful about this.

"Maybe not kidnap her. Perhaps barter with her for the nethicite. And if worst comes to worst we can always kidnap her for it and leave her on some deserted island. Her singing voice will keep us entertained in the meantime." I joke. Fran is not amused.

"We must do what we must." She says and walks towards the door.

"I guess so." I follow to find our new made 'friend.'


	2. Chapter 2

Right or left? I don't know anymore, all I know is that I'm lost as hell. Up the stairs, down a few flights, then quickly rounding a corner while trying to dodge servants and guards walking by. It's been maybe twenty minutes since I left the two weird characters stalking around corridors that they shouldn't be in, and maybe fifteen more since I left the stage to escape. The only thing I've managed to do is get myself lost and it's only a matter of time before I'm caught.

I turn quickly as I hear a sneeze from somewhere behind me, around a corner. Who ever is there must be really close by. In that moment of confusion and panic, I don't see the staircase coming up. My foot misses the steps and I fall head over heels down the stairs. I cry out in alarm and I hear someone shout behind me.

"Who's there?!" Cries a guard, running around the corner just fast enough to see me rolling down the steps. "Intruder!"

I lie for a moment at the base of the stair, trying to come my senses. Opening my eyes, I see a man clad in armor hurtling himself down the stairs so fast I think he might fall too. Quickly rising from my fall, I run as hard and as fast as I can from the guard, the small dagger I stole bouncing loose from my collar. The clunk and bang of armor behind me is getting closer, and I round a corner in the hopes of loosing my pursuer who still cries about an intruder. Another corner and down a pair of marble steps takes me to the entrance hall. Finally, I'm free. Or so I thought until I realize that the hall is full of guards.

"Catch her!" One shouts. I begin a mad dash of swerving and diving to escape the guards, trying to fight for the door ahead so I can rush out into the night. Their armor makes the knights clumsy and not too quick, but it also serves as a formidable opponent. One strike with a metal dressed hand and I'm out for the count. I barely miss a strike to the stomach as I duck under a blow. In my haste I do not see the armor dawned leg come up to meet my feet in a quick swipe. Like water falling from the sky, I'm rendered on the ground with about seven guards on me with swords pointing downward at my back and neck.

"You ma'am," Says a guard. "Are under arrest for trespassing in parts of this castle without a pass, and for-" Someone cuts the guard off in mid sentence.

"Wait, doesn't the girl get a say in all of this?" Says a familiar voice from above. "She must have had a good reason for wandering through the castle and running from your men." I slowly and painfully twist my bruised head to look at who is speaking. It's the man from before, the one who I met in my wanderings of the castle along with the viera.

"And just who are you?" Says the chief guard suspiciously, coming over to point a sword at the man who raises his hands.

"I mean no harm. That girl is my sister and we got separated. I bet she was only looking for me in her wanderings and fled only because she was worried that she would not find me. Our parents died in the wars you see." The man crosses his arms.

"You lie!" Spits the guard.

"I assure you it's true." Says the man casually.

"But you look nothing alike!" A confused and defiant guard answers.

"Do we have to look alike to be siblings? My father and his sister-"

"Enough!" Says the chief guard. "You may take your sister, and mind that she does not come back again anytime soon. If we catch her near here again it's the Nalbina Prison for her." A steely gloved hand pulls me up by the collar of my dress and thrusts me towards the strange man and viera. "Get her out of here." Barks the imperial.

"Right away sir." Says the man who grabs my forearm and led me out of the castle swiftly before the guards can change their minds. We walk a ways away from the castle, heading into the city which is silent for no one can be found in the streets this late at night. "May I ask what you were doing?" The man wonders quizzically, letting go of my arm. I rub it a bit, bruised from where I hit it on the floor.

"Trying to find my way out." I say earnestly.

"Really?" He says with a raised eyebrow, folding his arms much the way a parent would when cornering a child. "Trying to find your way out with nethicite?" I'm taken a back a little. His eyes fall on the chain around my neck. Slowly, I look down at the crystal blue beauty dangling around my neck and remove it so as to gaze the stone better.

"Nethicite?" I say bewildered that this little dagger could hold so much magical power.

"Aye," Says the viera. "not very powerful nethicite, but just strong enough for the wrong hands to deal damage." She eyes the stone I carry warily.

"Now, where did you find this?" The man continues.

"In the castle. It-it was lying on a table... I took it." I revolve the little dagger around my hands, admiring its beauty.

"Beautiful as it is, it is far to dangerous for someone who does not know how to wield it." The man comes a little closer, staring at the crystal in my hand.

"And you know how?" I say incredulously. "There are few who know and I don't think you're one of them."

"Oh? Don't think I'm strong enough? Let me point out that you cannot wield it either. So what good is it to you?"

"What is it you want?" I say, getting the vibe that there is something on this man's mind.

"Right to the point? Well then, give us the stone. We will consider it pay for getting you out of that tight spot you got yourself into back there. You can't use it even, so what good is it to you?" I look at the nethicite, fondly turning it over in my hand.

"It's dangerous." The viera says. "Do what he says before someone gets hurt." I can't tell if that's a threat or not. Her voice is gentle yet swift at the same time: very motherly yet stern. I hate to part with it. The power it gives off makes me feel safer than I have in a long while. I turn the glassy blueness over and over in m cold hands.

"Fine." I sigh at long last, feeling bitter. It was as if a little bit of my hope and safety, what little I had left, was gone. Handing over the dagger, the man takes it from my outstretched palm and pockets it.

"Smart move." He says with a grin.

"What is it you need the stone for?" I ask, folding my arms.

"We need to repair some damage done to our ship." The man says. "And so we must leave you now." He beckons to the viera who follows. They have a ship?! That could be my ticket out of here. As they begin walking away, I shout at them, a little bit louder than maybe I should have in my desperation.

"You have a ship?!"

"Indeed." The man says turning to look at me.

"Please," I say rushing forward, into their path. "Take me with you." The man and the viera look a little startled and surprised by this request.

"It's not safe." The viera says, walking around me.

"I fear for your life." The man nonchalantly says, walking past me as well, giving my shoulder a brisk pat. "Be a good girl and stay put."

"Please take me! Drop me off where ever you wish, just get me out of this city!" I plead.

"And what would be in it for us?" The man says over his shoulder.

"We do not do things for others cheaply." The viera says, not even looking at me. I purse my lips, thinking of something I could give them. Something they might want.

"Just a minute." I say softly, knowing it was the only thing I had of any value. But my life is worth more. Even if I did escape the city, it would not be long before I was tracked down, or was caught by some monster out in the Giza Plains or Westersand. I kneel down in the road, lifting the hem of the play dress and go to undo a boot lace. My fingers fumble guiltily over the laces and dig down into the boot until I reach my ankle. With clumsy hands, I undo the clasp to an anklet that I've had since as far back as I can remember. A pure gold chain with small stones encrust into it, each glowing a different color. "Here," I thrust the anklet forward towards the two. "Each stone has a different magical property. There are five of them. Each possess an element: Fire, blizzard, lightning, water, and aero. The gods of each protect whom ever wears this from each element and heightens your own magic casting potency. It isn't much, but it is all I have." The man slowly takes the anklet from my grip and holds it up to the moon.

"Pure gold." He comments with a smile. "Protects us from those five magicks you say? Well, what do you think?" He looks at the viera.

"Only as far as our destination takes us. We leave her there." She says and continues walking.

"I guess that's a yes." He says, raising one eyebrow. "Come on." He turns to walk away. Hardly able to believe my luck, I follow.


	3. Chapter 3

"Well," Says the man with a slight smile as he took his seat in the pilot's chair. I took my seat in the back of the cabin, the farthest seat I could slip into. "I'm afraid we still haven't learned your name yet." He says as he spins his chair around to view me in the back. His friend, whom I still had no name to call her by, was down in the engines getting the nethicite ready. I bring my legs up under my chin and peer out over my knees after wrapping my arms protectively around my thighs. I do this when I'm nervous and want to retreat into my shell a little. First of all, I don't like flying. Nothing bad has ever happened to me while in the air, I'm just freaked out by it. After the war and watching ships cascade to the ground after being shot down, I've never trusted airships of any kind. Just knowing someone in there died is enough to put me off for life. The second reason why I'm so nervous is that I want to get out this city so incredibly bad. I know those who seek me have ships and those ships have guns. They wouldn't care if they shot these two down in the process to kill me as well. Third of all, I'm not sure if I can trust these people. In my desperation to get away from the castle I never stopped to think who these people were. Why were they even in the castle? I suppose it was for the nethicite, but maybe that was just a bonus. They don't seem like high class citizens, and they look like they've been around the block. The way the woman looks at me, and at him, and the world in general...it's like she's seen it all. The good and the bad. The man is a little harder to read and that's what makes him so scary to be around. I've learned to read people, I've had to learn, but I can't seem to figure out what's going on behind those eyes. It's as if viera and hume have switched places.

The man still waits for my name, and I'm tentative to hand it over. I must remind myself that I don't know either of their names, or even what they're doing, but I don't think they're all that bad. They did help me after all. But still, I'm wary of people. I sit still a few moments, hugging my knees and staring at the floor with thoughtful eyes. He waits patiently, knowing I heard him ask. My eyes slowly drift up to meet him. I don't feel very social. That's why I sat back here, to avoid any awkward questions. Like about my past... about why I wanted out of the castle so bad. I don't want more people to know than need be in case something slips out. In case my pursuers get some lead. I've had too many close shavings for that. I decide to go by my nick name, rather than the real one that most people know me by.

"Fidel." I say softly, barely above a whisper.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that." He says. I repeat my name, in almost a bark. "Fidel. Not a common name." He comments.

"It's a nick name." I say, feeling awkward.

"Care to tell me your full name? Or would you rather not?" I shake my head.

"Just Fidel." The man swung around in his chair, nodding a bit.

"If we're going by nicknames, call me Vin." He joked.

"You don't look like a Vin to me. Try again." I say with a small smile. He laughed a little.

"I guess I don't do I?" Just then the viera walked in.

"We are all set." She said and took her place next to the man.

"Good, we've just been playing get-to-know-you. Fran, this is Fidel, and Fidel meet my partner Fran. My name is Balthier." Balthier turns his head to look at me and I look at them, startled. Is it _the_ Balthier? _The_ sky pirate? I swallow a little, suddenly not really wanting to travel with him and his friend at all. Balthier, from what I have heard, is a sky pirate with a large bounty on his head due to the fact that he only ever stole from the rich who so guard their treasures. Besides that, I know little of him and what kind of a criminal he is and what he's capable of. "I take it you've heard of me from the look of panic on your face." He said with a slight smirk. "Don't worry, we don't kidnap people unless we have good reason." With that he turned his head back around and started the ship up.

I felt myself shake a little, spine shivering as the ship jerked into life.

"Give it a few moments." Fran said to Balthier. "She needs to get used to the nethicite." Balthier nodded in understanding. Get used to the nethicite? Get used? You mean to tell me that they've never done this before? That this ship hasn't operated on nethicite, one of the most powerful things on the planet, before?! I hug my knees even tighter at the thoughts of all the things that could go wrong. I mutter a silent prayer to the gods that I get through this in one piece. At Fran's instruction, the ship began to rise upward and I felt myself quake a little at the ship's uneven movement. It jerked and rocked back and forth. "Steady." Fran said.

"Steadying." Balthier said lightly. How could anyone be so calm? I closed my eyes, not wanting to stare out the large windows in the front of the ship. Not wanting to watch the city slowly and steadily get smaller.

"We should be okay now, just ease into the speed." Fran said and leaned back in her chair.

"Roger that." The ship jumped into a faster pace, making me wonder how this was ease at all. I could feel my stomach turning over and over in my body, making me want to vomit. I pressed my forehead to my knees and bit the bottom of my lip so the metallic flavor of blood lingered in my mouth. That taste made me feel sicker, so I stopped. "This trip will take a few hours. We're going to a remote place out east. I just hope we're not far from where you need to go." Balthier calls back to me. Slowly, I unwrap a hand from my leg and dig it into my left boot until I find what I am looking for. Holding a bit of paper up to my face, I read what it says.

_Fidel, if ever the time becomes dire, meet me in Uyrii village. I will be there waiting for you_.

"Where's Uyrii village?" I say.

"I can't hear you back there," Balthier says. "Just nonsense words. Come up closer so we don't have to make Fran translate for me." I oblige and move up to the front, feeling again, a little nervous about being to close to them, especially now that I know they're convicts. I resume my knee hugging position when I sit and repeat my question.

"Uyrii village you say? I've never heard of it." Balthier says interestedly.

"It's a little south of where we're going." Fran said. "I've never been there, but I hear hume's speak of it in passing. It has been some time since I heard the name come up, however." Fran says quietly, a little mystery hanging around her words.

"Maybe we could drop you off there rather than make you walk. If it's not far that is from our destination." I'm not sure since if it's a generous offer or not. Usually people offer to take you places if it is a far way off, but I guess his selfishness is to be expected. It is his ship, even though I paid for the passage.

"It's not far." Fran says. "We have time to drop her off there."

"Thanks." I say, suddenly feeling very tired.

"Now, may I ask why you are venturing to a town you don't know the location of?" Questions Balthier, a note of intrigue in his voice. Fran looks at him with a glance of warning and Balthier shakes it off. "Just a question. It's a long trip and I thought we could all use a story." I stare at my feet a minute partially covered by my golden play dress, thinking of what to say.

"I'm meeting a friend there." I say at last.

"Oh? And who might this friend be?" Another pause. I'm left in the dust, thinking of what to say without letting them know more than I want to give away.

"He's just an old friend of mine. Looked out for me for a long time." I say, trying to give just enough information and feelings away so they might be satisfied with the answer.

"A boy? A boyfriend may I inquire?" I'm lost for words. I gawk, mouth agape, cheeks flushed with redness, totally unable to come up with an answer.

"N-no!" I stutter, totally caught off guard by the directness of the question.

"That's enough questions, Balthier. I'm surprised you went so far." Fran said to my relief.

"Just trying to get a feel for what kind of a person she is." He said dismissively. "Have to know who I'm traveling with after all."

Time passes by slowly without much talking. I feel my tired and over stretched mind begin to close around me in the soft blanket of sleep. My sagging eyes close and I fall into an uncomfortable rest. Sitting upright isn't the nicest way to drift off and can be rather uncomfortable. All the same, I slept a while. I couldn't hold onto my dreams and remember them, but apparently they were restless.

I woke up suddenly, cold sweat brimming on my forehead. I was slumping out of my chair, ready to tumble to the ship's floor. Straightening myself up a bit, I try to seem a bit more composed, but with hair all disheveled that task was near impossible.

"I see you're finally awake." Balthier comments, noticing my awakening from my glassy reflection in the window.

"You're mind is restless." The viera comments.

"How did you know?" I say, trying to tame the tangle-wood of hair.

"You speak in your sleep." She answers as though it was easy to see.

"Do I? I've never noticed." I smile feebly. Of course I wouldn't notice. I'm asleep.

"Now, may I ask," Balthier continues conversationally. "who this Caspen fellow is? You brought them up a few times in your mutterings."

"D-did I?" I stutter out. I watch Balthier raise his eyebrows at me in his reflection, obviously confident that he had stumbled upon something. My flustered-ness dies away as I think back. "He was a friend of mine. I plan on meeting up with him."

"I assume he is the 'friend' you plan on meeting in Uyrii village?" I nod in response to Balthiers assumption.

"Yeah, that's him." Awkwardly I say. I'm not used to talking about my past, even a little bit, especially with strangers.

"Go on." Fran says this time. "We are almost there so you will not need to tell much."

"You interested now Fran? How unlike you to pester." Balthier grins over at Fran who shrugs a little.

"I thought she was to tell stories." Fran said simply and looked at me with an accusatory stare. "You slept most of the time, so you get off easy." Fran looks away, leaving me feeling hot under the collar. What was I to say without spilling to much milk on the table? I was certainly in a sticky situation and pirates could be notorious for stabbing people in the back if it came to push and shove. But somehow the nobility surrounding the two before me lead me to believe that I was safe. Balthier and Fran seemed to be respectable sorts, or at least as respectable as pirates could come at any rate. I decided to drop a few guards but not tell the whole story, and if I let a few details slip I would not worry about them. With a soft breath, I start.

"Back during the war, when Dalmasca was thwarted by Arcadia, my home and family were captured and slaughtered, just like every other orphan's story. I was left with no family and no friends to take care of me. At the time I was barely old enough to care for myself." I pause to think, mind drifting back to the fire and the imperial flags flying high in the sky over a burning city. I shudder at the memory. "Weeks went by and I lived on what I could find, hoping each day would bring a new hope. My faith dwindled by the hour as I watched more die away. I thought I would too. And then one day this group of people found me. They were a small group of people, only of about five of them at the time, and they wanted to take me in. Among them was Caspen.

"I spent a few years there and eventually left the group for personal reasons. Caspen left as well and we planned on meeting one another someday." The story ends without much detail being given away. Thank god my mind wasn't stupid today like it has been in the past.

"Well, thank you for sharing your story." Balthier inclines his head in thanks. "I hope that one day you will give the rest of it." He winks over at me, and I feel a little blush rise in my cheeks. I turn my head away, not wanting him to notice the redness creeping up into my face.

"Land over there." Fran says abruptly, her tone urgent.

"What is it Fran?" Balthier says, voice concerned. "You sense something?"

"Aye." She says darkly. "Land, but do not be very close. Whatever is there may resonate badly with our Nethicite."

"Is it Mist?" Balthier says, voice dropping a little. My ears perk up. I watch surreptitiously as Fran nods a little.

"But something else as well."

"Well then, this is worth a look. Don't mind a fast detour, do you Fidel?" I shake my head. Balthier nods. "Good. Now hold on a bit tighter than normal. I'm not used to landing in heavily wooded areas. Mind your chair." The ship begins to descend at an alarming rate and I feverishly tighten my hands around the arms of my chair. The stomach in my body seems to have fallen out of me, and my eyes are shut tight. All the muscles and nerves in my body have tensed up and tingle in the most unpleasant way, almost as if I'm frozen. The floor seems to fall away and automatically a safety bar lowers itself over my head so that I can't be shaken around. The bar rests in my lap and I grab it instinctively, feeling its weight on my legs and hands.

"Too close!" Hisses Fran, obviously tense. "Back up!"

"I'm trying! She won't respond!" Balthier says in an uncharacteristically frustrated tone. I peek an eye to look at his white knuckled hands on the ship's dashboard and steering joints. My eyes are closed faster than they had opened.

"We're dropping too fast!" The viera shouts. I can feel the ground shaking violently as we plummet through the atmosphere. It feels as though the small vessel might fall apart at any moment.

"Not if I have anything to say about it." Balthier says through gritted teeth. I hear his hand collide heavily with the dash board, and the ship stops in midair, ever so close to the forest below.

"Where did you learn that trick?" Fran comments. I open my eyes to see the board is steaming a little and Balthier rubs a hand which is a raw red color.

"Just a little something I picked up. I wouldn't suggest using it unless the situation is dire. I think I may have broken my hand."

"We'll look at it later." Fran says dismissively. "For now, find a place to land. We must check this out. And quickly."

"How kind of you to care about my injuries Fran." Balthier teases. "And not one person has asked how our Fidel is." My eyes are open, and I'm shaking all over. Balthier laughs a little.

"I'm fine. Just dandy thanks." I say weakly, staring down at my shaking knees. The bar lifts upwards and I instantly miss its protection.

"We won't be there long." Balthier says, as if speaking to an impatient child. The ship begins to move away from the danger zone. "A few hours tops, depending on how long the trek there will be and what monsters we might encounter."

"You can fight right? If not stay here." Fran's eyes sparkle with warning, her face dead serious.

"No, no. I can fight, I'll be fine." I say, more to assure myself than them. I am tough, just when I want to be. I put a hand on my shaking legs to still them.

"Good." Speaks Balthier. "It's settled then. A slight diversion and then it's back on the road." But how far that road goes, I can't tell. How long it will be before I have to wait for Caspen, I don't know. We never picked a date to meet.

How long is my road?


	4. Chapter 4

Fran thrust a tunic top and shorts upon me. "You cannot fight in a dress. Give it to me once you're done changing. That will be enough payment for the clothes." She shut the door with a soft click leaving me to stand awkwardly in what appeared to be a bedroom, hers no doubt. I stare around the small room, dimly lit. Being shoved into room and barked at to undress wasn't exactly something I was used to. I ran by my own watch, not hers. I carefully place the clothes given to me on the bed behind me and peel away the golden dress. Although it was a cheap piece of costume, the dress was still exquisitely beautiful, and I had to wonder why Fran and Balthier wanted it. Not that Fran wasn't beautiful, the viera were notorious for being gorgeous, but she was just so much taller than myself. I stood at about five foot three in height while she stood at six feet or more, her body long and delicate compared to my tiny one. The dress wouldn't fit her the way it did me. Maybe the two planned to sell the dress, but as I said, it's cheap.

I take up the shorts and pull them on, sitting back on the bed for balance. It was obvious who got the better end of the deal.

I looped a belt through the belt loops fastened to the tanned cloth on my legs and waist. The shorts fell about a fourth of the way down my legs, not covering much, but it wasn't too bad. Still, showing this much shin wasn't something I was comfortable with. I then pulled a baggy grayish tan tunic top over my head. It was baggy, but not too baggy. I tucked the bottom of it through the belt to make the fabric more taught. The sleeves fell like bells over my hands which dawned a pair leather gloves to make wielding weapons easier.

It was with a slightly weaker heart that I took up the golden dress and left the room. Fran and Balthier both stood outside the room I changed in, waiting patiently.

"I'll have that." Balthier lightly said and lifted the garment out of my arms. He walked off into Fran's room again, softly closing the door behind him. In front of Fran and I stood a door leading to the stairwell out of here. I found it a little odd that the sleeping quarters be so close to the exit, but each to his or her own. A few moments later Balthier reentered the hall, a sword clutched in hand. "For you." I take the iron forged blade.

"So you can wield it?" Fran says, a little surprised. "I had guessed you'd be more of the dagger type."

"I am." I spoke quietly, lifting the sword up so I could look at my own reflection, and it was that of a 17 year old girl, her face pale and oddly sad. I lower the blade. Just as it had been yesterday, the day before, and would forever be. Or so it felt. "But I know how to use a few swords."

"Lucky for you," Balthier interjected. "We have no use for that sword anymore. We have need for stronger weapons so you may keep that sword free of charge." He smiled a little and I nodded back in appreciation. Getting anything free from these people was a gift indeed.

"My thanks."

"We can exchange thanks later," Fran began. "Right now we have a job to do." Her tone was serious and dark, and maybe even a little afraid. Balthier seemed to sense something strange in her tone as well and cast her a sideways glance but said nothing.

"Let's go then." He said and touched the door on which we would leave through.

The wood was thick and deep, the dark trees hanging and reaching high above my head, vines from branches spiraling down to caress the forest floor that was littered with leaves. Something strange lingered in the air, the aura cloying but I could not put my finger on the feeling that it gave me. All I knew was that I needed to get out of here and fast, my animal instinct making me want to fly back to the ship as fast as these hume legs would carry me. I look to Balthier and Fran to see if I can find anything in their faces. Balthier has the same indifferent and casual look on his face, but I could see he was prepared for a battle if we stumbled upon one. Fran's expression was a little harder to read. Her eyes were a little sunken and she appeared strained in a way I hadn't yet seen. She wasn't frightened, just pained by something. Something else also hung in her gaze, but I did not know what. This interested me, and for a moment I forgot the fear that had shadowed me.

"Something wrong?" Balthier asked, noticing I was looking at them.

"Nothing." I shake my head and look away, my emotions coming back. We walk on aways, plunging deeper into the woods. The canopy blocks out most of the sunlight so darkness and shadow was everywhere, adding to the feel of the forest.

"Stop." Fran said, her eyes shut as though she were suffering from a headache. Her brow was furrowed and her voice was choked with strain and stress.

"What is it?" Balthier said, concern and curiosity creeping into his voice.

"Over there." Spoke the viera, voice hushed as though she were sick. "Behind a few shrubs, something lurks there."

"Shall we have a look then?" Balthier raised an eyebrow and folded his arms.

"Fidel and you go. I must stay here. I cannot go any further." So she was sickly. I wondered if it was the presence I felt that was making her ill.

"We'll be fast." Balthier beckons to me and we part the bushes standing in our way. Thorns tugged and scraped me as we wove through the jungle, traveling on an old Chocobo path. A tree root made me lurch forward as my foot caught on it, but Balthier's arm caught me just in time. "Alright?" He asked, helping me regain my balance. I nodded and we carried on. We walked about a hundred steps further into the wood and then the man beside me stopped suddenly. I froze next to him.

"What is it?" I breathed. Balthier shook his head.

"I'm not sure. Stay here and don't come until I give you the O.K." I obeyed and allowed him to creep forward. About fifteen feet in front of me, I watched him crouch down to peer through a few shrubs, his head disappearing from sight. I heard him make a sound of surprise and devastation. "It's alright to come." He said over his shoulder. Taking care not to rip my new clothes, I made my way to his side and peered through the bushes as well. The sight that greeted me was a grim one. In the midst of the wood stood a circle of broken trees, leaves, rocks, ground, and animals, all dead and burned over, the scorch marks fresh. It was a large and perfect circle of devastation, the diameter about one hundred feet across. "That explains why we haven't come across any monsters." Balthier said darkly.

"What could have done this?" I said, looking upon the charred bodies of a few creatures, one of which appeared to be a Moogle.

"I'm not sure, but whatever did this must have done it a few days back. Everything's freshly burned and dead. My guess is nethicite or manufactured nethicite. Something powerful, that's for sure. Let's check this out a bit, eh?" Balthier stood up, and as he did so a cry of fury echoed around the trees and plant life. "Fran?!" Balthier called. He broke into a sprint and I quickly followed, fear rising in my throat. "Fran!" He shouted again, and again there was a wild cry from the main path. I stumbled out of the greenery and stopped as I saw Balthier running forward to stop Fran. The viera, sword in hand, proceeded to furiously strike the trees with heavy blows. Her feet swiftly moved upon the ground. Fran was no longer the viera we had left, something had made her snap. In blind anger she flung the heavy sword towards Balthier who blocked the weapon with his own just in time. The sword fell with a loud thud to the ground and the viera rushed forward to attack the man whom she had regarded as a friend. Without knowing what I was doing or why, I sent a jet of water at her. The stream hit her full in the chest and she flew backwards, slamming into a tree. Fran slid down to the ground and slumped over, unconscious.

I breathed heavily, looking in horror at what I had done and slowly I looked to Balthier, hoping he would not be mad that I had struck his navigator. He looked over at me, relieved.

"Well done." He said and walked over the woman lying on the ground. "Fran doesn't take well to power of this sort. She would have killed us both had you not stopped her." He lifted the viera onto his back with ease. I stood stock still, unable to say anything. I felt as though I wanted to scream. "Don't look so worried. We're alright now, she won't wake up until we're out of harm's way. Fetch her sword for me." Balthier began to walk down the path, back to the ship. I watched him go a little, marveling at his cool attitude, but still thrown by the sudden change in Fran. My legs shakily stumbled foreword and I took up the sword. It was incredibly heavy, beyond my ability to use. "Hurry up!" Balthier calls over his shoulder and I quicken pace.


	5. Chapter 5

I took my seat next to the driver's chair as instructed by Balthier. With Fran out, and I was to help him drive the ship. By the time we had reached the wood, Fran was still not waking up, and I couldn't help but worry. Had I hit her too hard? Balthier assured me that she was fine, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I had done something wrong.

Balthier took his seat and began to fire up the ship. "I'm going to try and find a way around the belt of energy that attacked us earlier." He informed me. "But I cannot make any promises that we won't hit anything. Without Fran here, we have no way of knowing where the power is, and she won't be coming too until we're out of this place. Truth be told, I'm surprised she didn't loose it earlier."

"Why's that?" I ask. Balthier smiled as he pushed a few buttons the dashboard.

"Didn't notice? We were right in the heart of the energy. All that time we walked along in those woods, the energy grew. Fran is sensitive to high amounts of energy, as are all viera. To much can make them go insane with anger as you saw back there." The ship started up and I instantly tensed up at the sudden movement of the ship. I half expected Balthier to comment on my phobia, but he didn't, much to my relief.

"Will she be alright?" I asked, expressing a little of the concern that had plagued me since I had attacked Fran.

"She'll be fine. Fran is tougher than she looks need I remind you." I felt a little relief at his words. "I take it your town is just beyond these woods." I nod.

"Yeah, it's not far from here." I say quietly, slipping back into my seat, coming from the edge. I try to relax, but can't.

"Now," Balthier says looking over at me. "why not tell me more of that story of yours. We have a little while before we're out of the woods." I shuffle my feet a bit, suddenly feeling as though I'm being put on the spot, a 'do-I-have-to?' look firmly in place. Balthier notices my look of uncomfortableness. "If you still don't trust me, could I at least ask a question?" With a slightly wary and suspicious sideways glance at him, I nod.

"Within reason."

"Why were you in the play?" He said innocently. The question, although seemingly harmless, would open up a can of worms that I wanted to keep closed for the time being. I kept my mouth shut. But Balthier interest continued to pester me. "Well? It's a simple question. And we did give you that sword after all."

"But you gave it to me for free!" I protest.

"And if you wish to continue to carry it for free, I'd answer my question. Besides, if you are traveling with us I'd like to know what dangers you bring along with you." I'm silent for a few moments. Why was he so interested in my past? In my affairs? He didn't seem like the type to pry into someone's own business, but I guess my character of being so shy and meager contradicted with the situation I was in. I suppose Balthier's interest outweighed his gentleman like self.

"I," I start, and breathe a few times over while I gather up the words. "was looking for someone who acted in the play."

"So, you were not part of the original cast I take it?"

"Correct." I sigh.

"So how did you come to take the lead role?"

"I drugged the girl playing her part." Balthier laughed a this.

"Indeed? You who are so quiet and fawn like?" I nodded, blushing.

"Desperation makes me do things I wouldn't normally do. It was that or die."

"Bipolar are you then?"

"No, just well trained. While I was in the Organization I was taught to act quickly and surely in situations that are dire. I have tried to suppress that part of me, but I cannot. They drilled it into my being."

"Why did you leave them? You said they took you in, I'd think you'd be grateful." I don't answer at once. Balthier's newest question has sent me into a land that I would rather not think about at the time. I sit in a solemn silence, eyes staring at my feet in a quiet fear.

"Gratefulness can only go so far. They became something I could not recognize or call family, so I left."

"What did they do?" Another long pause and I felt my heart tighten at the memory.

"Their hate for Arcadia became so deep that they killed people. Innocent people, slowly working their way up the line until they tried to kill an old and still very important official. I was a key part in their plan, years of being with them had earned me the trust of the founders to an extent that no other member had. But I hated what they were doing and tried to stop their plan at the last moment. The official died, and many others died. I didn't save anyone." My voice felt choked, a lump of regret forming in the back of my throat. "We entered the Archadian city. We were able to get past the guards and break into the castle there. A meeting was going on with Dalmascian and Archadian rulers and we wanted to take the opportunity of all the Archadian rulers being in one room at once to slaughter them all. We carried bombs, so many of them to blow the place to smithereens. They didn't even care if they took Dalmascian lives if it meant revenge. At the last moment I got cold feet and tried to stop the bombing, but it was too late. The trap was set. My betrayal cost me the trust and protection I had known for so long, and my punishment was death. Caspen helped me escape the night of the execution, but he had to stay behind and cover my tracks." I took the small note out of my pocket and looked at it, gazing at his handwriting. "He said he'd leave and find me so we could run together." I said in a soft breathe.

"So what were you doing looking for a man in a play? How does he fit into all of this backstabbing and murder?"

"He knew a man in the government who was involved with finding the killers of all of those people. If I could find him, then I could expose the Organization. I know where they are, the leaders, everything. But they know what I'm up to and are always one step ahead of me. I never got to meet the man you see, he was murdered before I could speak with him."

"Any hope of finding this high official without the aid of an actor?" I shrug.

"I was hoping Caspen would know."

"Well then," Balthier said with a small grin, "I'll make sure we you to your final destination in one piece."

"Thank you." I say with a slight incline of my head.

"I have another question. Two actually. What is this Organization's name, I'll start off with. Maybe I've heard of them." He adds.

"The Anti-Arcadian Relief Force and Liberation Organization." I recite.

"And how powerful are these people?"

"They've kept up with me haven't they? They know my every move and can sneak into an Imperial city undetected. They wield incredible power." I stare at Balthier's face. His eyes are clever and his expression calculating.

"Do they now?" His eyes wander over to me, coming away from the darkening sky around the ship. "Thank you for telling me all of this Fidel. I appreciate your trust." I look away from Balthier and let my eyes fall into the sky, loosing myself in thought. I feel a little safer with Balthier knowing all of this. He won't betray me. I know he won't.

"What's all of this?" Fran's voice comes from the doorway of the cockpit. I internally sigh with relief.

"Fidel was just telling me about her past." Balthier says, obviously relieved that his friend was okay. I can't help but envy Fran, to have someone care about you. Someone to lean on.

"Was she?" Fran comes up and stands behind Balthier's chair. I start to get up but Fran shakes her head. "Stay. I'll take this seat." She sits in my old chair. Suddenly I feel included, like I was part of this somehow, like I had found friends. It was a welcome feeling and some of the safety I had once felt began to creep back into my stone cold heart.

"Your town is just over there. Can you see it Fidel?" Balthier pointed off in the horizon. Just along the last bits of light of a setting sun, I could see the village.

"Park close to the town, but not too close. We can't be seen." Fran says to Balthier.

"Got it." He says with a nod. I clutch my chair nervously, but not out of the thought of landing. But out of the anxiety at seeing my old friend Caspen. Would he be there as promised? What if he wasn't? What if something went wrong? All these fears began to overwhelm me and I felt trapped in them. With each new fear came more anxiety to get out of the ship and run into town. I felt sick with emotion.

The night cloaked the world around me as we walked towards the village gates. The ship had landed well away from village and Fran had activated the cloaking on it. No one would be able to see it now. Balthier and Fran kindly offered to walk me into town, but then they had to leave right after. I didn't expect a goodbye from them, they weren't the goodbye kind of people and I'd rather not think of it as parting our ways.

I stare up at the large wooden and barred gate in front of me, wondering how I was to get in.

"Excuse me!" Balthier calls. "Is anyone there?" Not a sound. He calls again, but there was still no response. "I guess they're changing guards. Shall we try just letting ourselves in?"

"We'll have to." Fran said. "We don't have time to wait." I nod in agreement. The three of us lined up along the gate and began to push. The wooden frame groaned at the force, but began to move all the same. The wood slid in the dirt paths it had formed from the many times it had swung open and soon the task was easy. Before long the door was open enough for the three of us to slip inside. We do so, quietly and quickly. Hovels and small shops lined the roads. Paths and small streets carved the town into small sections and divided a largish market place in two at the very back of the town. I knew this place well, and knew it to be a lively little place, even at night. But I had stumbled upon a flaw-where were all the people?

"This place looks as if no one has been here in a long time." Balthier comments, walking a little ways into town. I stand rooted like a tree to the ground. Where was everyone? The little baker by the road, the blacksmith, the hunter's guild, the trading post, the market and bazaar, where was it all?

"Hello?!" I cry into the night, voice breaking at the end. I walk up to a window of a house and peer inside the dusty window. I take the back of my hand and rub the glass until I can see inside a little better. Everything was turned upside down, stools thrown about, desks upturned, books and papers everywhere, broken china littering the floor-everything destroyed.

"That seems to be the case with many of the houses around here." Balthier says coming to look into the window I was staring into. "Can you sense anything Fran?"

"Aye, but whatever took this town left weeks ago."

"Is it the same thing that trapped the wood in energy?" Balthier said, straightening up to look at the viera. Fran didn't answer at once.

"Possibly, but I cannot say for certain. It is best that we leave this ghost town and head for Balfonheim Port. The ship won't be able to handle the Nethicite power for much longer. And neither will I." Fran adds and starts walking back to the gates.

I stand by the hovel's window, unable to move for the sudden grief that had overtaken me. Not only was Caspen most defiantly not here, but neither was anyone else. There was nothing but an empty shell. "Shouldn't we explore this place some more?" I say, suddenly angry. "We can't just leave!"

"And what do you think we'd find?" Balthier said evenly. "Who ever cleared this place out did it well. There are no tracks what so ever, and besides a few shelves turned over, nothing else seems to be disturbed."

"What do you mean 'nothing else seems to be disturbed?!'" I explode all at once, voice echoing around the dead village. Fran stops walking and turns to face me and my yelling. "There's no one left! They're all gone! How can you say everything else is normal? It isn't! It isn't!" I scream, feeling tears start to fall in a bitter defeat. Where do I go now?

"I never said this place was normal." Balthier says, a little more gently. He walks over me and places an arm around my heaving shoulders. "I know this must be difficult, but you'll find Caspen. Not here, but someplace else." Fran briskly walks over to us both.

"We'll take you to Balfonheim the pirate's town. Talk comes in from everywhere there. There may be word on your friend." Fran says in a soft tone.

"But our deal ends here. I have nothing left to give you." I point out, trying to steady my cries.

"Well, you never reached your goal did you? The deal is incomplete so we'll take you with us for a little longer." Balthier removes his arm and walks over to Fran. "You think we'd just leave you here, huh?" He smiles a little and starts walking towards the gates. "The leading man never leaves a damsel in distress. No matter how whiny."

"Come on." Fran nods towards Balthier and begins walking. Slowly, I follow, feeling reluctant to leave. What if Caspen comes and I'm not here? I want to wait, but I'd die and I'm not stupid enough to wait in a dead town with powerful energy on the loose. And not to mention my pursuers.

"Thank you." I say, wiping dry the last of my tears.

"Anytime." Balthier says and we walk through the gate.


	6. Chapter 6

"Mind where you wander," Balthier said to me as we entered the pirate town of Balfonheim, "The place can get rather rowdy at night." The three of us stood just a little ways outside of town. The ship was safely hovering above our heads, invisible and protected by the night. I feel a little apprehensive about entering a pirate town. A bunch of thieves and vagabonds wandering around. Who knew what kind of people they were. Not to mention that the surrounding area was full of powerful monsters and fiends that would make mince meat out of me given the opportunity.

The flight over here had only taken maybe an hour or two, but it had seemed like a lifetime. I felt so incredibly sad and alone the entire way and now I was to really part ways with Fran and Balthier. I couldn't hang around them for much longer and I was determined for them to think of me as strong and independent even though I feel very far from that. I don't want to worry them, not that I think they are the sorts to worry that is. I just don't need pity.

We wander into town and I feel a little out of place and awkward. Was I supposed to leave now?

"We'll meet with Rikkin, a fellow pirate and friend of mine. He may have heard of the boy you search for." Balthier says in answer to my question. "After that we will part ways. Fran and I will be in the town for a few days while our ships is repaired, but then we have to be off."

"Alright," I say. "and who is this Rikkin?"

"You mean is he trustworthy?" Fran asks and I nod. Balthier laughs.

"Whether he is trustworthy or not is up to you, but he is a descent man in my eyes. He took over his group of pirates after his leader, Reddas, died. May he rest in peace." Balthier said. "Rikkin does what he believes is best, what more can you ask of him?" The sky pirate gives a satisfied little smile and begins to walk a bit faster. We wind our way through the lively pirate town, stopping every now and then while Balthier and occasionally Fran converse with other pirates.

"And who is this young lass?" Asked one pirate by the name of Berkin.

"Ah, her name is Fidel and she seeks her friend. Any young wanderers come through here?" Balthier said to Berkin.

"Not that I'm aware of I be afraid, but many do come through here." We parted ways soon after our conversation and continued the trip through the town until we reached the building where this Rikkin and his crew stayed.

I stood behind Fran and Balthier as the door flung open to reveal a few sky pirates. They pointed guns and swords at us at first.

"Who be knocking at our door-" Started one woman savagely, but her voice broke off as she realized who was indeed at the door. "Balthier! Fran!"

"Is it really you?" Said one pirate who was younger than the rest.

"Who else would it be?" Another older pirate said with warm affection.

"Hello there all," Balthier said briskly, "long time no see, eh?"

"Long time indeed!" Said another pirate, just appearing into the scene, clapping Balthier on the shoulder.

"Rikkin, just the man I wanted to see." Balthier said and we enter the house.

"Am I? Well met, I have news for you as well. Urgent news- And just who is this? Another apprentice? My you do have good taste-" Rikkin says after spotting me lurking shyly behind Fran.

"Her name is Fidel and she is no apprentice of mine, or Fran's for that matter."

"She wishes to speak with you Rikkin. We were hoping you might be able to answer a few of her questions." Fran says in a serious tone.

"I'll see what I can do." He folds his arms and smiles around. "Come, let's move into a smaller room to talk."

"Just you four then?" Says the woman pirate, disappointed. "I was hoping to chat with Balthier." She winks over at him and he smiles politely back.

"As flirty as ever." Balthier comments making the woman giggle.

"There will be plenty of time for that later. Come on." We walk through the cozy pirate home and make our way to the back. Rikkin holds a door open for the three of us to walk through and we step out onto a large balcony over looking the sea. I can't help but gasp at the beauty of the moon and stars shimmering off the black waters below. I've never seen the sea before.

"It's nice." Fran comments to my gasp and I nod.

"Yeah," I breathe.

"Take your seats." Rikkin points to a large and elegantly carved table with chairs all around it. We sit down.

"So, what brings you here?" Rikkin asks.

"Well, Fran and I were on our way here as it were for repairs on our ship. The engine is faulty and we had to acquire some Nethicite power to get it here." Balthier says to his old friend.

"I see, and where does young Fidel fit into all of this?"

"As it were, she carried the Nethicite we were after and we made a deal to take her someplace in our ship. In short, she's looking for a young boy by the name of Caspen. Have you heard of or seen him?" Rikkin leans back in his chair, thinking hard.

"Maybe, the name seems to ring a bell. In fact, not too long ago a group of people wandered through here and I think one of them carried the name Caspen, but I'm not sure."

"What did he look like?" I say, almost desperate. Rikkin's face became more furrowed with thought as he tried to remember the boy's face.

"Shortish brown hair, rather fine I think, very light blue eyes, rather frightening if he watched you long enough. Um, he was young, maybe 18 or so and he wore a suit of blackish green armor I believe. He was flanked by a few other men wearing similar armor. I think one of the other men was bald, but I'm not sure-"

"That's him." I sigh, leaning back a little. "But why would he still be with-" I murmur, but I am cut off.

"Is that really him? Strange group of people. Didn't say much while here." Rikkin says indifferently.

"Any ideas where he was headed?" I ask.

"No idea. Ask around a bit though. They were here for a day or so. I'd see if any of the pirates heard something. We pirates have very sharp ears your know?" Rikkin winked at me and I smiled in appreciation.

"Will do. Thanks for your help."

"Any friend of these pirates here is a friend of mine."

"Now, you had news for us Rikkin," Balthier said, changing the subject.

"Yes," Rikkin said, voice suddenly becoming serious. "It's about your apprentice,"

"Vaan?" Balthier says, raising an eyebrow. "How many times do I have to tell you, he's not my apprentice."

"That hardly matters right now. The boy has been captured by bounty hunters. Him and his friend, Piney was it?"

"Penelo." Fran says at once. "Which hunters?"

"Which do you think?" Rikkin says darkly. "They've got the two of them trapped in the Ogir-Yensa Sandsea. Apparently a small bounty hunters town has appeared. Don't ask me how amidst the strange folk that roam the Sandsea area, but they plan on turning the two over to the military- unless you show up that is."

"And how did you find this out?" Balthier asks, interestedly.

"As it were, I just got back from journey of my own this morning. On my way back I was approached by one of these bounty hunters. Here, it's the letter he gave me to give to you." Rikkin slips a hand into his olive green vest and takes out a small folded bit of paper. "I took the liberty of reading it after the man disappeared." Balthier took the paper and slowly unfolded it. After a few moments of reading, Balthier let a small grin appear on his face.

"Doesn't the boy ever learn?" Balthier shakes his head.

"So, you're not going after him?" Rikkin says, surprised. Balthier shakes his head.

"We'll go, but he's getting a stern lecture after."

"Who's this Vaan?" I say, curiosity getting the better of me.

"A boy with whom we traveled with a year or so ago." Fran said.

"We made a sky pirate out of him. Gave him our ship and everything and there he goes getting into trouble." Balthier said with a soft sigh.

"Well, it was bound to happen." Rikkin shrugged. "Vaan is a good kid."

"Yeah, but I'd rather not hasten to his rescue. Those bounty hunters are a pain to deal with." Balthier cleared his throat.

"But so far no bounty hunter has claimed you yet. The ultimate prize." Rikkin says proudly.

"Not yet, and hopefully never."

"Aye. And by the way, you have just a little over a week to get him back before his cashed in. That wasn't in the letter."

"Good to know." Balthier grimaces. "So how big is his bounty?" Balthier says with a hint of amusement in his voice, and he leans forward on an elbow, balancing his chin on one finger.

"Not as high as yours, but he's earned himself a title." Rikkin shrugs. "He's on his way. One day the boy will be a fine pirate, perhaps better than you."

"I live for the day."

"Our ship," Fran cuts in, "if Vaan is in trouble we'll need it fixed as soon as possible."

"We can have it ready in two days time. While your in town why not stay for the Sky Festival going on tomorrow?" Rikkin suggests. "Might be a nice experience for Fidel. Give her an idea of what it means to be a true pirate." Rikkin winks at me again.

"Why not? We have nothing else to do while we wait for the ship to be fixed." Balthier said with a slight shrug.

"What's the Sky Festival?" I inquire.

"My, she is a curious one." Rikkin says with a smile. "In answer to your question, it's a festival to prove just how pirate you are. Or at least to celebrate piracy. Who knows? Maybe there's a pirate in you." Rikkin nudges me in the ribs a little and I grin sheepishly.

"Maybe." I say lightly.

"Anyway, feel free to stay here while you wait for the repairs on your ship to be done. Fidel, may stay here as long as she wishes, or at least until she finds a lead on her friend."

"Thank you, Rikkin." Fran says, getting to her feet. "I think I will go rest now. The day has been long."

"Sleep well, Fran." Rikkin says.

"I think I'll turn in too." Balthier says and gets up to follow Fran.

"Well, here's something I never thought would happen! Balthier turning in before 3 a.m.!" Rikkin shakes his head and stands as well. "Sleep well then to you too."

"And you." Balthier leaves the balcony.

"I guess I'll be heading to bed then." I say with a small laugh.

"I think that best. You look pretty beat. I'll have one of the other pirates show you to your bedroom."

"Thanks for the hospitality."

"As I said, any friend of those two is a fried of mine." I follow Rikkin into the house, utterly exhausted.


	7. Chapter 7

Morning's light hits the back of my eyelids. I can feel the muscles on my face contract and scrunch up at the unwelcome heat on my eyes. I roll over in the tiny and rather smelly bed I sleep in, and press my face down hard into the soft pillow, caught in between the dream and real world. From outside my little bubble I call a mind, I here something bang against the wall.

"Get up!" Shouts a voice. I can here laughter too. "Come on sleepy head, it's late!" Then I feel an icy cold arctic blast hit me, and I'm sitting up spluttering. I look around wildly and notice that I'm covered in icy sea water. My eyes focus on the one who hit me with the frost bitten liquid. It was the woman from last night. She was laughing and had one hand on her waist while the other clutched a bucket.

"What are you waiting for? A special invite to get out of bed?" Chuckles another pirate.

"And you might want to hang out in the sun for a bit. You know, dry out them clothes!" Another one says through laughs.

"And don't you even think of going back to bed. If you do, out come the big guns!" Chortles the woman. The three pirates in the doorway leave. I look shakily up and down at my self. I'm completely soaked and so is my bed. With shivering bones, I clamber out of cot and stand in the nearest patch of sunlight, trying to get warm.

The house is really cold when you've been doused in water fresh from the tundra itself. My chilled hands take a bit of my one and only shirt and begin to wring it out, letting the water splash upon the wooden floor. I hear the door behind me click open. _ Fwoom! _ I stagger over a bit as a large baggy thing suddenly cascades down over my head.

"Better dry yourself off," It's Balthier's voice. I tug at the thing on my head and find it's a towel, "the festival is starting up and everyone's been waiting on you."

"You didn't have to wait!" I say agitatedly. I begin to quickly dry myself off with the towel he flung at me, rubbing a little too hard on the soaked skin and clothes.

"Well, too late now. And don't dry off too fast, you'll get wrinkles in those nice clothes Fran gave you." He smirks and leaves, shutting the door behind him. With angry hands I begin to rub my head furiously, trying to get every last bit of the sea out of my hair.

I walk down the stairs, finally dry, or at least semi-dry. Everyone is piled around a large round table in the center of the kitchen which smells of eggs and toast. Someone stands at a stove in the far off corner, cooking away while everyone else sits around talking. A few of them look up as I enter the room.

"Might want ta' do something about that hair-" One pirate says and large smile grows over his lips.

"What yah say then?" Says the female pirate. "Another soak in the sea water to tame that beast on your head?" She laughs.

"Oh, leave her alone." Rikkin says smiling at me and my tangle of hair.

"How can she go out looking like that?" The woman continues to tease.

"Oh, just drop it!" I say agitatedly. "I don't care how my hair looks."

"Someone's mad in the morning." Says the pirate cooking at the stove in a singsong voice.

"Well, this is a new facet of your personality." Balthier says interestedly.

"Here," Fran says and pushes a comb into my hands. "bathroom is that door near the fireplace."

"Thanks." I say and walk off with the comb.

"Aw come on Fran!" I hear a pirate say as I leave. "Ruinin' our fun like that!"

"Come on guys, she's not a toy-" Rikkin starts.

"Not a pirate neither!"

I shut the bathroom door behind me with snap. It's and old and wooden thing jutting out of the house. A small wooden basin for bathing sits in back of me and by the looks of it, it hasn't been used in ages. A toilet lurks in a small corner of the bathroom and on the wall opposite is a large sink with a cracked mirror hanging above it.

I walk over to the mirror and look at my reflection. It is indeed laughable and crazy, like I'm sort of wild animal to be put on show. It'll take more than just a combing to fix this mess. I put down the hair brush and try to turn on the water. Nothing happens. Great. And then I get an idea. I turn to the bathtub and see no faucet to start the water running. Just as I thought, but I think I can spend a little MP on drawing up a bath if I use my magics right. I open the door a crack and call outside.

"I'm taking a bath, alright?! You guys head off to the festival without me. I'll meet up with you later!"

"Good luck getting water in that thing, girlie!" Shouts a pirate from the table

"Yeah, that thing don't work!" I snap the door shut and roll up my sleeves. I wait a few moments while magic flows around in my body, building up and growing stronger. A little prematurely so it's not a powerful attack, I aim a jet of water into the bathtub. I do this again so the tub is about half full. Then with the same technique I begin to summon fire, but at the last moment I stick my hands into the water. The bath begins to steam. Take that!

With a satisfied smile I undress and open a window a little to let the steam out of the room. I hang my clothes out the window to air them out a bit before climbing into the bath, making as much splashing and noise as I possibly could.

Maybe half an hour later I climb out of the bath, feeling clean and presentable. I comb out my hair and put my clothes back on after drying off. Opening the door, I see I'm alone in the house. Everyone left already, like I had told them. I walk over to the kitchen table and see some eggs laid out for me. Next to them is a note.

_ Don't eat the eggs. Cooky doesn't know they're bad. Here's some change for you to get a better breakfast. We'll be at the port side of town when you want to meet up.  
-Balthier_

I pocket the gil Balthier left on the note and walk over to the sink with the plate of eggs in my hands. After leaving the tainted breakfast in the sink, I head out.

Hardly outside the front door, I have to duck down as a gun shot goes off somewhere. I here laughter all around and straighten up. The gun of course wasn't aimed at me but at a barrel of ale which spills the liquid onto the ground.

All around me was a vast array of laughter, sword fighting, story telling, booths of food, ships flying over head in what I think were races, dueling with guns, and an assortment of other festivities. I buy myself some bread and eat as I walk along down the wooden planks of the town. I spy a drinking contest a little ways away. It's only around noon and already people are getting drunk out of their minds.

I decide to ask around the townsfolk and see if any of them had seen or heard of Caspen and the strange men. But where to start? I decide the local bar was as good a place as any, but I'd have to find someone who wasn't out of it. I open the door and enter the dimly lit and people packed bar. I can hardly move without almost tripping over someone. I make my way to the bar. Bartenders hear everything, right? I'll start off with him and see what he says. Feeling a little nervous and out of place, I take a seat.

"What'll it be?" Says a bear of a man. A thick and stringy bottle brush like beard fell past his chin, and his nose was like a hawks, and his eyes glinted with the glory of all the money he was raking in. A spotted and stained apron was tied steadfastly around his waist which was large and rounded.

"No drink, but I would like to ask you a few questions. I'm looking for someone and I thought you, a bartender with as sharp of ears as I've ever seen, may be able to help me." I try to add a little spark in my eyes. Being flirty and pretentious isn't something I do naturally.

"Well miss," Says the bartender in quieter and cleverer tones, "These ears do pick up a few things now and then. Just who was this folk you want ta' find?"

"The boy I seek who goes by the name of Caspen. His hair is very fine and brown, eyes a light blue. He's serious and about 18 in age. When he was here I believe he dressed in blackish green armor and was flagged by a few people. Think you've seen him?" The bartender pauses, obviously trying to recall any faces that might fit the one I described.

"Aye," He said after a few seconds. "I heard them talking amongst themselves at my bar about five nights ago. Strange folk they was. Slipped money to a few folk, not sure why though. I'd be careful if I was you. Hunting them down may be dangerous for a young lass."

"Did you happen to hear where they were headed?" I press on, hoping that he'd have the answer.

"Indeed I did, girl. They was headed west of Rabanastre I believe, but more than that I don't know."

West? It was vague, but at least I had a direction. "Thank you for your time. You've been of great help." I push a few of Balthier's coins to the man who takes them and promptly winks at me.

"Come again, miss." I leave the bar, suddenly feeling anxious to leave this town and get journeying again. although, Rabanastre was a long way off, and the west was a huge place. The journey would take a long while on foot. With a sigh, I head to off to find the port, wondering about how I was going to get out of this god forsaken town.

My feet carry me to the southern edge of the town where ships, sky and sea born, come to port. I can see a small crowd of people gathered around, and as I got closer I heard someone calling out.

"And it's about time you got a crew!" Shouts a pirate with ale in hand. The crowd cheers and I shyly creep up, wedging myself in between people to get a closer look at who's talking. A pirate whom I've never seen before has dragged Balthier into the center of the crowd. Fran lurks behind the two, looking a little fed up.

"I've told you many times before, Gizmo, I don't need a crew. To be honest I find them a pain to deal with." The crowd boos.

"Oh come on there chum! How many notorious pirates such as yourself don't got a crew to back them up? Your ship can hold one of a fair size. How about it folks? Who wouldn't want to be part of this man's plundering crew?" The crowd screams in delight.

"I said no." Balthier says flatly and begins to walk away. Gizmo jumps in front of the poor pirate and blocks his escape.

"Three people! Come on, only three!"

"No is no! I'm not taking on anyone."

"But what about Vaan!" Shouts a lady from the crowd. "You took him on! And his friend!" The crowd nods and calls out in agreement.

"I never took them on! I gave them a ship and that's all. Come on Fran, let's get out of here." Balthier tries to escape again but the crowd closes in.

"One person then! One is all I ask. The best pirate in this crowd here! A fight to the death!" The crowd claps and cheers.

"Fight! Fight!" They chant.

"The crowd wants a show, Balthier. You've never disappointed yet!" Gizmo says lightly, urging him on. Balthier sighs in exasperation.

"Fine! One crew member, but don't kill anyone. I don't want a maimed person helping on my ship." More applause and whopping comes from this. Someone even wolf whistles making a few people giggle.

"Now, what pirate thinks they're brave and strong enough to plunder with the pirate king himself?" Gizmo says daringly to the crowd. "Which one of you is man enough-"

"Or woman enough!" Cries a lady from the crowd. People laugh heartily at this.

"Or woman enough," Gizmo adds, "to join this crew?" A few people stick their hands in the air and I look to each. None of them look strong or stout of character enough to be on Balthier's crew. They all appear weak kneed and feeble. The pirate woman from Rikkin's base caught me eye in the crowd. Our eyes locked for a moment and a wide grin spread over her face.

"I vote that urchin there!" She cries to the crowd, pointing to me. The crowd turns to look at me, small and delicate, standing oddly in the midst of all these dirty sky pirates.

"That one?" Says a man, eyeing me up.

"Her? She doesn't look like she could even lift a sword!" Jeers a woman in back.

"No way a hen like her could contribute to Balthier's crew!" The taunts go on.

"I want to see how pirate she is." Says the pirate woman, her voice commanding and powerful, powerful enough to quell the rambunctious crowd.

"Why not?" Says Gizmo. "Get her a sword and let her fight. Now who will challenge this girl here? Anyone?" I choke, hardly daring to believe that I had been selected to fight. A sword was pressed upon me and I took it in hand, trying hard not to let my shaking show. Who were they kidding? I didn't want to be on Balthier's crew! I have a job to do thank you very much! I'm not even that good with a sword to begin with.

A man stepped out of the crowd. "Give me a sword." He said extending one hand. His long black hair fell to his shoulders and his eyes were an arrogant gray. A red headband was wrapped up in his hair, and his clothes were tattered and smelled of musty sea water. "I will fight and beat this girl. Who will carry her wounded body away from here?" He shouts to the crowd. People laugh at this.

"I'll do it for free even!" Shouts a man. I feel disgusted. Now I had to fight and win. My pride was on the line. And maybe winning was the only way to prove myself to these people, gain me some sort of a name. I moved through the crowd into the center of the circle and raise the iron blade.

"I warn you girl," Says the arrogant man. "I am one of the best sword fighters in this town. I don't loose, especially to a girl." I feel my blood bubble at his sexist words, but say nothing to defend myself. We'll see who's taunting who by the end of this.

"No rules in this battle," Gizmo says, "use whatever you got on you. Whether it be magic or grenade. But don't kill." The arrogant boy's smile broadens at this. "Impress our pirate king. And Eros, be nice to the lady." The crowd chuckles, but darkly. They want a good fight.

"Ready?" I prepare myself for my opening attack, just like Caspen taught me. "Steady." I focused on my breathing, cooling the nerves inside of me.

"Go!"

My feet glide forward, and I pull the sword across my body as I propel myself over the boarded dock. Eros has his sword held high above his head as he races forward. As we draw in close, I raise my sworded arm upward to block his attack and swing my left foot upward. My booted foot meets him painfully in between the legs. Eros doubles over and drops his sword in agony. He falls forward onto the ground, shaking with pain.

"You horrible wench!" He cries out in an embarrassed fury. "What did you do that for?" I smile cheekily, turning on a little charm.

"He said we could use anything we got." I say innocently. The crowd laughs a bit.

"And of course your first instinct is to go for the crotch!" He snaps. I can see the red anger rising in his face. I snicker.

"Anything to get that smirk off your hideous face." I say coolly and the crowd gasps a little, a few people tittering with laughter. Not many people talked to him this way as it seemed.

"What did you say?!" He barked at me.

"Anything to wipe that **pompous**," I add emphasis and feeling to my words, "**snide**, **arrogant**, and _**haughty**_ grin from that _ugly_ mass of filth _ you _ call a face." Now I've got him right where I want him. I knew from the start I couldn't win, but with his balance now seriously messed up and a rage burning through him, his judgment and skill would be off. Just like Caspen taught me.

"Screw the match! You're dead girl!" He staggers to his feet, obviously still in considerable pain. I hit him with all the strength I had in me after all. I wouldn't be surprised if I broke something.

He lumbers forward, swing the heavy sword wildly at me. I step easily out of the way and slash at his back leg. He yelps in pain and I can feel him start to crumble. I aim for the next leg and scrape the iron along his back ankle. If I wanted to, I could easily lob off a leg or an arm, but I don't want to maim him. Just hurt his pride. Again he swings his massive sword, and I duck and this time kick him square in the chest. He staggers backwards and I kick again making him fall onto his butt. I jab at his throat with the sword.

"You don't stand a prayer right now," I say. "I've won."

"Not true!" He yells and swings the sword at me, getting to his feet. He moves forwards and tries to hit me with an attack from above his head. I slide out of the way and strike him a few times in the chest. I drop my sword onto the dock and decide to use my hands and feet rather then the lumbering blade. I felt so much more graceful and agile with my body. The sword was an unnecessary addition to an already well carved weapon.

The iron moves at me again, and this time I kick the boy's feet out from under him as I duck down. His feet fly up and he topples over the side of the dock, falling into the ocean below. The crowd bursts into applause and I stand up.

"Well, there it is folks!" Shouts Gizmo. "This young lass has beaten the one and only Eros! Would somebody mind helping him out of the water? I don't think he'll be able to swim very well." The crowd laughs and a few people sportingly run off to help Eros. "Now, is there anyone who thinks they can beat this young girl?" No one comes forward.

"Just seeing Eros's face was enough for me!" Cries a woman up front. People nod and applaud in agreement.

"So, is that it then? No more takers?" Gizmo looks around at the crowd. "Alright! It seems we have our winner!" To thunderous whooping and applause I'm brought up to stand by Balthier and Fran.

"Well," Balthier says while cocking and eyebrow, "imagine that?" He smiles. "Seems you can't shake us off."

"I'd think it would be the other way around." I say.

The crowd begins to break apart, people talking excitedly amongst themselves. Fran, Balthier, and I begin to walk.

"You don't have to take me anywhere else." I begin. "I've found out where Caspen is headed and plan to go off in search of him."

"So, I see you've made good use of your time then." Balthier says. "Where did he wander to?"

"West of Rabanastre is all I know, but I plan on searching the area all over."

"We're headed in that direction as well." Fran says. "A deal is a deal after all."

"Fran is right. You won that battle and it's only fair you get some reward. We shall fly you west and allow you to travel with us. That is if you don't mind helping to save our friend?"

"No, I don't mind." I sigh thankfully inside. I didn't want to ride a Chocobo or walk the entire way.

"Now my question is," Balthier starts in, "is how you learned to fight so dirty? It made me wince just watching." I start laughing, suddenly feeling very light hearted.


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as we received the news that the ship was repaired, we were all set to leave. We left the small pirating town around midnight of the festival, but we left in such a hurry that few had a chance to say their goodbyes. I guess I was right in guessing that the two sky pirates traveling with me were not the 'farewell to you my friend' kind of people. Rikkin was the only one there to watch us depart, and the man was sly enough to slip me a quick peck on the cheek before I boarded. Thankfully no one else saw, or at least if they did they didn't say anything about it.

Hours have now gone by of sitting in the airship, and the mood is light. Slowly but surely, I'm becoming more of myself in their presence instead of the shy and nervous girl I appear to be. Still, my fear for flying runs deep and for awhile I'm a nervous wreck.

My mind sags and I sleep awhile, maybe an hour or so before I wake again and sit in silence. Besides Fran giving Balthier the occasional direction or caution, there was little to no talking. My knees were drawn up under my chin, as accustomed when flying, and my jaw firmly shut. My mind whirred with thought and I didn't particularly feel social. The monotony of the endless flying was finally broken by Balthier.

"Any ideas where this 'Caspen' is located?" Balthier asks me out of the blue. I sit up a little, startled by the sudden question.

"Huwah?" is all I can say at first. My tired pillow of a mind won't comprehend more then a few words at a time. Balthier's lips give into a tiny smile and he repeats the question. "Not sure. Honestly, I don't know why he'd be in the west of all places. See-med," I yawn, "more of the type who'd head south."

"You must know him pretty well then." I shrug.

"Obviously not, otherwise I'd know where and why he'd be going west." I crave to voice more of my worry, my worry that he never left the Organization and still travels with them, but I can't. To voice it might jinx the situation and make all my fears come true. I can almost feel in my heart and bones that both Fran and Balthier know the rest of my worry, but say nothing on it. How I wish I could get inside one of their minds and see what they think. I could just ask them, but I don't.

"Do you love him then? You certainly seem worried enough about him to be infatuated with the boy." I'm totally thrown by the question. My face grows a deep shade of crimson and I sit bolt upright, mouth gaping as I try to think of words.

"Lo-" I can't even bring myself to repeat the word 'love' I'm so embarrassed and thrown to one side. "No!" I say finally with an agitated indignity, "I don't feel anything like that for him! He's just my friend, I've said that before. Is that such a crime? Can't I have a friend who's a guy without being accused of something?" I say all of this lightning fast, stumbling from word to word like a drunkard from bar to bar. Balthier laughs at my severe reaction.

"Took you long enough to say all that." He looks back at me with a mischievous smile on his face. "There's no shame if you do. I was just curious."

"Well, stop being curious." I mutter as I press my face into my knees to cover the redness in my face.

"Hm?" Balthier says,

"Nothing." I sigh. A thought occurs to me and I end up blurting it out before my mind can say no. "Have you ever been in love then?" The mood in the room suddenly goes from teasing and embarrassed to rather frosty and awkward. Balthier doesn't answer me at once, but when he does it's with a little bit of strain.

"Perhaps."

"How many times?" I don't know why I continue to pester him, I guess I just want to put him in his place. But I can't help but feel a little guilty.

"Once. Fran, could you take over for a little while. I just thought of something I need to do."

"Very well," Fran says. Balthier gets up and leaves without another word and Fran takes his seat. I hear the door on top the ship close as he leaves.

"Careful how you speak your questions." Fran says once Balthier is gone, her tone gentle but a little reprimanding.

"I said something wrong, didn't I?" I say softly, looking back over my shoulder as if looking for Balthier.

"That is a subject he'd rather forget. His past."

"Why?" I say, feeling interested. Fran sits in a pensive silence for a few seconds as she directs the ship.

"I am not sure I should be the one to tell you. It is his affair, not mine."

"But if I said something to offend, I'd like to know why. I don't want to make the same mistakes again. And besides, we all have something we regret or want to forget." Fran doesn't say anything for a long time, I can tell she is reluctant to have brought up anything. I'm sitting with crossed fingers, the curiosity driving me mad. I've always been a sucker for a good romance story.

"Although I know very little about it, I will tell you. But you must never bring this up to him."

"Fine," I say. "You have my word." With a sigh Fran begins to talk, and I hold onto her every word.

"Years ago, a few now, Balthier was a judge for the Imperial army," Fran speaks slowly and softly, "and he never enjoyed it. Doctor Cid was a sick man living for Nethicite and it tore Balthier up inside. Balthier speaks of it now as though he hated the man all along, but that is not so. I believe Cid had been very dear to him long ago and seeing this man turn into something unrecognizable was too painful. Balthier dreamed of leaving that life behind. Amidst these dreams a young woman appeared, daughter of a Senator. To my understanding, she was a fair and skilled young woman. Of course they fell in love almost immediately and she was the one who finally convinced Balthier to leave Arcadia and run. She said she would follow him." Fran went quiet a few moments before continuing. I could tell she strongly didn't want me to know the tale. "Following him cost her, her life. Balthier was devastated and from then on sealed away parts of himself to keep that from happening again."

"So you two aren't together?" I ask. Fran laughs a little and shakes her head.

"Nay, we are but friends just like Caspen and yourself."

"Do you love him?" Fran shakes her head again.

"I do not. I am not interested in finding a mate or settling down. It is not in this heart to do so. Maybe one day, and when I do feel like it I will leave Balthier to find it."

"Do you think Balthier will love again?"

"Perhaps, if he opens up again. But for now his wounds are fresh and need nursing. But I warn you, if you ever fall in love with him like so many other women, guard your heart well. Chances are high that it will break, especially if you plan on traveling with us." At first I thought she was joking, but I then realize she was dead serious. I felt a little strange at that last thought; falling for Balthier would be most awkward.

"Thank you for telling me, Fran." I say just above a whisper. I suddenly feel ashamed and guilty for forcing Balthier to relive all that and pour lemon juice on the wounds. "Should I go apologize to him?"

"No, that is not necessary. He started it after all, he should have known better. But don't press him anymore on the subject."

"I won't."


	9. Chapter 9

It was with a relieved heart that we landed just outside the Ogir-Yensa Sandsea. After hearing Balthier's tragic tale, I had wondered whether I could look him in the eye again and not feel guilt. After Fran and I had settled into silence, I had so wanted to drift off to sleep so that I may sleep through Balthier's return and save myself from the nervous tension that would only build up. The wondering if he was angry with me or disliked me in some way. The trepidation only grew from then on and sleep slipped away like fishing with a net whose holes are far to large to catch any fish.

When he did come back I was surprised he didn't stop for the sound of my heart beating so fast and loud I was sure it shook the ship. But he did nothing of the sort, only greeted Fran and I as though nothing had happened. Fran promptly got up and let Balthier take over steering the ship once more. Caspen and my love life were never brought up again.

We left the ship hovering above our heads, ever waiting for our return, invisible to any wandering eyes. I stretched my legs, thankful to be moving again.

"We have a long walk ahead of us," Balthier says, handing me the iron blade I carried before, "and be wary of the folk wandering around here. Troublesome people if my memory serves me right." I nod in understanding.

"'Kay." A wind pushes up the sand, sending it billowing around my feet. I shut my eyes tightly, hoping I didn't get anything in them. The wind passes and I slowly open my eyes. It's just before dawn and the sun is starting to peak above the horizon, sending streaks of orange and yellow into a black and starry sky.

"Nothing like it in all of Ivalice." Balthier says mildly and starts walking down from the small patch of sand we stand in.

"We must make haste if we do not wish to fight the Ultan-Yensa." Fran says, following after Balthier.

"Something tells me we'll have to fight them no matter what time of the day it is. Look," Balthier points to a few Yensa skulking around in the sand by the Sandsea, their tattered and sand worn clothes swamping over their miniature and hunched bodies.

"What's that?" I say, pointing to a small dust cloud racing along the sand a long ways away. Balthier shakes his head and digs out a pair of binoculars from a pocket. He presses the lenses up to his eyes.

"Yensa, and they seem to be in a hurry." Balthier says, handing me the binoculars. I watch as the twisted folk dive in and out of the sand astride large fish like creatures. I hand Fran the binoculars but she shakes her head and I give them back to Balthier instead.

"Think it would be worth following them? They might lead somewhere. Certainly is suspicious with them going all fast this early." I suggest.

"Might be worth it indeed." Balthier says and looks at Fran. "Do you sense anything, Fran?"

"Aye, but it's a long way off. I think it wise to follow that Yensa."

"Then it's settled. We follow, but don't wander. You know what curiosity killed." He says, mostly to me. Like I'm that foolish.

The heat of the sun, the sand in my boots, the constant attack of Yensa, and the fact that there's no water for miles is enough to make me want to give up. Who cares about this damn Vaan kid? I just want out of here.

A bead of sweat threatens to fall from the tip of my nose and I have hardly enough energy to wipe it away. Sweat clings to my hair line and falls like rivers down my face, making it itch. How I wish I could just shave my head and free myself of the hot and itchy red hair that plasters itself over the back of my neck and face. How I wish I could just jump out of my clothes and run around naked to free myself of the hot cloth which clings to me in all the wrong ways.

"Alright?" Balthier says, looking at my drooping shoulders and fed up expression. I haven't complained once I think I should add to my angry list. I wish I could complain, but I don't want to become any more of an annoyance than I already am.

"Never better." I lie through my teeth. Balthier nods in skepticism. "Okay I have to ask!" I say, totally fed up of wondering. "How the hell do you manage to wander through the desert in long sleeves and black leather pants?!" Balthier lets out a loud laugh which echoes off the old towers.

"Practice." He says in an airy voice.

"You mean you do this on a regular basis?" I rub my eyes a little, bleary with sweat. Balthier shrugs.

"When you travel as much as Fran and I do, you don't notice these kinds of things as much. I thought you'd understand that."

"Yeah, but I never wore black-leather-pants!"

"Now that you've mentioned it, it is rather hot." He said, wiping away some sweat brimming on his forehead.

"And you're just noticing this?" I laugh a little.

"Hush," Fran says sternly, eyes fixing on a point off in the distance.

"You see something?" Balthier says, turning to face the direction Fran is looking at. The viera nods.

"I think we may be close. Stay quiet and be ready." We walk along a bridge connecting two large and abandoned oil towers, our footsteps making muffled echoes as they hit the metal. Off in the distance I can see many clouds of dust racing along the Sandsea, all heading to the same spot off in the distance. I walk over to the side of the bridge and lean over a bit to get a better view.

"Lemme have the binoculars a minute." I say to Balthier. He rummages around in his pocket and draws them out, placing the heavy instrument into my hand. Putting the lenses up to my eyes, I focus on a large oil tower, bigger than most. Or at least it was an oil tower. The place had been turned into a giant tower that loomed over the Sandsea, a large spiraling staircase wrapping around the building to reach a metal door at the top. There were no windows in the building, and a few Sky Ships hovered around it, obviously belonging to bounty hunters.

"Seems we picked right in following the Yensa." Balthier remarks as he strolls over to get a better look at the large oil tower. I give him the binoculars.

"Quick," Says Fran, rather impatient, "the Yensa approach fast from behind. Let us escape further conflict."

"Right," Balthier tucks the binoculars away. "Well, shall we head out?"

"Do we have a plan for sneaking in first?" I say, stepping away from the railing.

"We'll come up with that when we get closer," Balthier says, looking over his shoulder at the approaching Yensa. "But right now we need to get out of here."

"This way," Fran says and we follow her, careful to keep our footsteps quiet.

The large oil rig was so high in the air it touched the clouds, large winged dragon like creatures circled around the top, and the shadow the tower cast seemed to go on for miles, even with the sun at its zenith. Fran, Balthier, and I stood at the base, feet treading along the spiral stairwell that went up for what appeared to be miles. We hadn't climbed very high yet, the Yensa folk had prevented us from making it very far, but it finally seemed that we were on our way. The only way into the giant oil tower was through the front door at the very top of the tower.

"I only hope that we don't come under attack from those large dragons." Balthier says as we walk further upward.

"We've fought harder creatures." Fran says, looking at the circling beasts.

"Not in weather this hot." Says he, "I'd rather not have to fight anything else." I'd like to agree with Balthier, but I can't, I'm out of breath again. The air is thick and cloying in my lungs, to the point where I wonder if there's any oxygen in the air.

We climb for a long while, the hot sun beating down upon us, my legs aching with every step upwards. With the dragons becoming ever closer at hand, our climb goes on for at least an hour or two. The sun had reached its peak a while ago at the very least so we weren't climbing with it right over our heads, but it was the hottest part of the day so there was little to be thankful for.

"I'd be ready to run," Balthier said as a dragon began to eye us up. "they don't look passive."

"Thought we could take them on." I answer back, maybe too cocky for my own good.

"We could take them on one at a time, but all at once? They attack in bands this kind of dragon." Balthier says as one flies over our heads, casting a much needed shadow over us.

"Besides we do not have far to flee," Fran says, eyes fixing on the door, seven or so stories above our heads.

"I just hope we don't have to fight anyone inside." I say weakly.

"Knowing our luck," Balthier says in a slightly bitter voice. "I wouldn't be surprised if we have to fight upon entering."

"Great." I mutter, and we begin to climb again. As Balthier said, the winged beasts started to cluster as we continued to walk, their steely and venomous eyes watching us approach their domain. The drakes were large, twenty or so feet long with wingspans of well over fifty feet in either direction. With scales of a blue gray color, the creatures sparkled in the sunlight, a blinding and deadly beauty. Spikes arched from well plated backs, and clawed feet were ready to slice a person in two. I swallow, feeling worry and fear starting to creep up. "Should we run?" I whisper, eyes staring at the closest dragon, about fifty or sixty feet above our heads.

"Not yet." Fran says, "Wait until we go up another story. They will dive then and we will run. When we do so, stop for nothing." I nod and brace my body for the charge upward, knowing this would take all the energy I had left in me. My heart began to beat quickly, pounding against my ribs.

And then a cry, alien and wild, pierces the heavens. I stop walking and look up to see a dragon turning over in the sky, momentarily blocking out the sun, to dive at us. I feel myself freeze up as those eyes stare into mine.

"Go!" Shouts Fran, shoving me hard in the back. My legs instantly break into a mad rush upwards, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I hear a loud crash behind me as the dragon falls into the bridge, headlong, smashing a large part of it. Looks like we can't go back now. More cries echo around us and pretty soon we're running under a rain of diving bodies, balls of fire, water, and wind, and dodging large blows given by heavy talon laden arms.

One blow catches my shoulder and I stagger over and fall. Fran's arm pulls me upright and I break into a run again, not stopping to tend to my wound. The sound of metal crunching under the dead weight of twenty or more dragons diving and taking out large portions of bridge is deafening. A fireball whizzes past my head, burning my shirt as it goes, coming to stop only when it crashes into an oil tower adjacent to this one.

There's only a story left to climb, and I push out my last bit of energy to get me to the door. I can feel the adrenaline wearing off as a days worth of traveling begins to take its toll. Another blast of powerful magic flies towards me from in front, and I duck down just in time. I can feel the magical heat pass over my head and hear the loud cry of the dragon who was struck with it.

I'm running up the few last steps of the spiral upward, almost on the metal platform over looking the entire Ogir-Yensa Sandsea. My hand reaches for the door, a few feet away. I can hear my two companions running along side me, silently begging for this hell to be over. My hand closes around the handle and I pull the door open. We skid inside and I slam the door shut. I back away from the door and sink to the ground as I hear the echoing bang of a few dragons hitting the metal door headlong. Too numb and weak to care much, I just stare at the door, unable to do anything more. My head spins in circles, I feel as though I'm about to vomit everywhere, and flashes of green light pass before my eyes. I can't hear anything but my own breathing and the blood pounding in my ears. My mouth droops open in fatigue and heavy breathing, and every muscle shakes with strain. No longer able to hold myself upright, my body slumps over and I lie on the cool metal ground, fighting to stay awake as the metallic tang of blood marches in my maw.

A firm hand grips my shoulder and pulls me to my feet. My legs sag and I lean on them, unable to hold myself. They support me easily, draping my good arm over one shoulder.

"Those talons are poisoned." Says a voice, cool and familiar, in my ear. My mind is so feeble and fog filled that I can't remember who is holding me upright. I listen as something is uncorked somewhere close by. And then my entire arm feels as though it's on fire. I smell the acrid burning of poison and feel the steady drip of liquid run down my arm as an antidote is poured over the wound. Whoever holds me tilts my head back and pours a welcome drink of high-potion down my throat. The liquid wakens me up a little, clears my mind, allows me to open my eyes, and pushes the stomach turning nausea down. My fatigue and strained muscles still ail me, only sleep and rest can mend that, but at least I can function.

The room I'm in comes into focus. It's dark and round, about two hundred or so feet in diameter with a high ceiling. It is all metal, but cold inside, far cooler than the outdoors. A metal door lies to the east and the one we just burst through to the west, but nothing more is in this room, except for a few lights, but only a few. Fran and Balthier are kneeling down in front of me, watching me come around .

"Quite a run you made there." Balthier says. I smile. But wait, if Balthier and Fran are in front of me, who then holds me? I look over my shoulder, up into a face I've been waiting to see for so long.

"Hello, Fidelynn." Says Caspen.


	10. Chapter 10

Caspen's firm and nimble fingers bandage my arm up. But a few moments ago I was a lifeless mess, and now my dearest friend is sitting beside me. How fast the gods do blow a new wind.

"So, you are Caspen then?" Balthier says to the boy.

"Indeed, you've told them about me then, eh Fidel?" Caspen smiles that familiar smile I've grown to love and ruffles my hair a little, not caring that it's wet with perspiration.

"They've been traveling with me, helping me find you." I say.

"I know." He says, giving my arm a final pat as the bandage is tied.

"Do you? How?" Says I, stunned. Caspen smiles and helps me to my feet.

"I work for the Lady Ashe of Dalmasca now. I joined on as a knight and serve her in the castle. Word got around that two of her old companions had been imprisoned here and along with that came word that the sky pirate Balthier and the viera Fran were to save them. Along with the two pirates traveled a girl by the name of Fidel." He beams at my questioning face.

"But how did you get wind of my name in all of this?" I ask, trying to make sense of it all.

"I have a friend in the pirating town. They saw you three together and reported it to me."

"You have friends in strange places." Balthier comments. "A government official befriending pirates isn't a common sight."

"The Lady Ashe is a little more compassionate to those who fly the skies," Caspen says, "no doubt your doing."

"It would appear so."

"But why are you here?" I ask, furthering my questions.

"The Lady Ashe sent me to collect your fellow sky pirates, claiming them friends of hers. Of course I was only too happy to oblige, and when I learned you would be arriving too, I was all the more happy to come. Lady Ashe says to invite you three back to the castle after we free your friends."

"That is a welcome thought." Sighs Balthier.

"Aye." Agrees Fran, with a nod.

"So, where are they?" I ask. "That Vaan guy and his friend."

"Down below, still locked up." Caspen says. We begin walking to the east door.

"So where are the bounty hunters?" Fran asks, "This place has ships everywhere, yet I see no hunters."

"I sent them away for a while." Caspen says with a wave of his hand, "Worry not on it." With a click, Caspen opens the door and I step through, staring down a long stair well that descends into the endless tower.

"I've got the door," Balthier says and Caspen nods in thanks before following me.

Third Person POV

Fran turns to Balthier, her eyes narrowed.

"Sense something, Fran?" He asks in an undertone so as to leave the two friends in a moments peace.

"Aye." Says the viera, looking down the staircase.

"Where?" Fran looks to Balthier, her eyes stony and glassed over slightly.

"It's not the tower." She says and descends after the two. Balthier stands for a moment, staring into the darkness shrouding the stair, and follows.

First person POV

"You know you don't have to be so formal, Caspen." I say teasingly. He smiles a shy smile.

"You know me and first impressions."

"I'm sure they'll like you however you are."

"But it's different now," He says turning to face me, eyes shimmering with that determined expression I know so well, "I'm a knight. I work under the Lady Ashe in restoring the hope and freedom we dreamed about. I can't always be the same kid who so acted reckless. Not when I'm dealing with world leaders."

"You've never been reckless. You're the most level headed guy I know. I'm the reckless one." I punch his arm playfully. "And Fran and Balthier aren't world leaders. They're accepting people." I smile, trying to comfort. "Relax."

"Yeah-" He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Just a lot of pressure."

"Don't worry," I say, linking arms with him, "you got me? Right?" I laugh a little and I absorb his smile like a plant soaks in the sun.

"That's right." We come to the end of the staircase. The hall in front of us is doused in a red light, jail cells lining the walls. Caspen and I wait for Fran and Balthier to reach the bottom of the stairs before going any further.

"I wasn't sure which cells your friends were in," Caspen says to the two of them. "they aren't the only two locked up in here."

"That's fine. Now, are all the cells here or are they scattered around?" Balthier asks. In response to his question, comes a surprised and hopeful voice.

"Balthier?!" Through one of the bars I see the face of a girl, maybe my age, staring hopefully down the corridor.

"Balthier?" Says a male voice from across the way. The boy who spoke comes up to the bars of his cells and peers down the cell hallway.

"Well, I don't think we'll have to look far." Balthier says with a slight smile. "Getting into trouble already are we?"

"So it is you!" Says the girl excitedly. "Come to rescue us?"

"No," Jokes Balthier. "I thought I'd just watch you."

"Oh come on, enough jokes. We've been in here for over a week!" Vaan complains.

"Hold your horses." Balthier says, shaking his head. "I come all this way and this is how I'm treated?"

"Is Fran here too?" Penelo hopefully asks.

"Here." Fran says coming to stand by Balthier.

"So, who are they?" Vaan nods in our, Caspen and I, direction.

"You're ticket out of here I presume?" Balthier looks at Caspen as he says this. Caspen nods and digs into a pouch at his metal covered body, removing a set of keys. He tosses them to Balthier who catches them with one hand.

"Don't think I'm letting you off lightly for this, Vaan. I can understand getting caught as a novice pirate, but with a woman at your side?" Balthier shakes his head as he unlocks Vaan's cell door.

"What do you mean 'novice pirate?'" Vaan says with folded arms. Balthier laughs a little and even Fran gives a small smile.

"Oh leave it Vaan." Penelo says. "You haven't even thanked them for saving us!"

"He'll be wishing he was still in here by the time I'm done with him." Balthier says, but in good heart. Balthier tosses Fran the keys to unlock Penelo as Vaan's door clicks open.

"And who are you calling a bad gentleman, anyway?" Vaan says as he leaves his prison. "A real gentleman would have let Penelo out first."

"You have me there." Balthier looks over at Penelo apologetically. "Sorry Miss Penelo."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'm just glad you came for us. Aren't we Vaan?" She says forcefully.

"Yeah, of course we are." Vaan smiles at his old friend who smiles back, much like the way a father would look at a son. It touches something inside of me, something I miss dearly. The love of a parent.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" Penelo says, indicating us.

"Right." Balthier says. "Fran, would you do the honors?" Fran inclines her head.

"They be Caspen, a knight of the Lady Ashe, and on his arm," I promptly notice I still hold Caspen's arm and shyly let go, "is his friend and our new companion Fidel. Fidel and Caspen these are Vaan and Penelo." We greet each other as all strangers do, a little nervous and shy, but welcome to one another's presence.

"So, how is it we're getting out of here?" Vaan asks.

"I've got a ship," Capsen says, "it'll take us back to the Lady Ashe. She wishes to see you all after so long."

"Balthier has a ship too." Penelo says.

"Indeed, but She'll be fine. And I might point out that you both have a ship as well." Balthier suddenly looks at the two with suspicion. "You didn't loose Her did you?"

"Well," starts Vaan, uncomfortable. Balthier groans and he just shakes his head in disbelief.

"You lost the ship already?"

"I know where it is!" Vaan weakly says.

"And how do you suppose to get it back then?"

"I could ask Ashe if she could get it back for us."

"Lady Ashe has much on her plate," Fran says, "and it would not be wise to get her mixed up in our affair. Her position is already in question for befriending a pirate, let alone aiding one." Vaan's shoulders droop at this.

"I suppose we'll have to steal the ship back then." Balthier's voice holds a lot of disappointment. "Thought you'd take better care of your things. Especially when their a gift."

"I'm sorry!" Vaan defensively snaps. "I got caught and I can't help what they do with my ship!"

"You can! Keep it somewhere where no one will find it! I told you that-" Balthier puts his head in a hand and shakes his head, obviously angry. "We'll talk about this more later. For now let's just leave this place."

"Right," Says Caspen awkwardly, "follow me. The ship's just outside."

"With the dragons?" I say, not hiding my resentment and fed up feeling about going back out there. Caspen laughs.

"Nay, there's always been another way in here. The front door is for those who don't know their way around here."

"Obviously," I say,

"Come on, I'll show you to the secret entrance and from there we can get on the ship. Rabanastre is not a long flight. We should arrive there within the hour."

"How I've waited to hear that." Balthier remarks, trying to calm himself a little.

"Me too," Penelo sighs. "I can't wait to see Ashe again. I wonder what it's like ruling an Empire?"

"Stressful," Balthier says, "being a judge was hard enough." I smile pleasantly, feeling a little out of place amongst these friends. Oh well, as long as I have Caspen everything should work out fine now. I'm not alone.


	11. Chapter 11

To my relief, Balthier didn't further his reprimanding while we flew off in Caspen's ship. The fly to Rabanastre wasn't a long one, so I didn't have time to sleep. My body melted into the seat, so comfortable and soft against my tired body. I sat in stupor for about an hour, every now and then drifting off for a few seconds, only to be woken up again by a restless mind. I was so excited and nervous about going to see the Lady Ashe and my reunion with Caspen that my whirring mind wouldn't let me rest. All too soon it was time to depart. Caspen helped me out of the chair and promised to redo the bandages once we had met with Ashe.

I followed the group outside, mind ticking, body dragging. The large doors swung forth for us, and that's when I remembered that I was banned from the castle for trespass. Oh well, as long as I didn't bump into any of the guards from before, I was okay.

We were taken up a grand staircase over looking the entrance hall and through a set of double doors, down another long hall and just before another set of grander, more elaborate doors, we were stopped by two guards.

"Sir Caspen," They said with a nod of respect which was returned, "the Lady Ashe awaits you within. These are her friends I presume?" Says the helmeted guard closest to me. He looks at each of us in turn. "Might I suggest a bath after your meeting?"

"A welcome thought." Balthier says mildly and the guards nod in understanding.

"I shall go and give the command to start preparing rooms?" Says the guard farthest from me.

"Do so," Caspen says with a brief thanks to the guard after. With hurried footsteps, the guard runs off while the other disappears inside to alert her majesty of our arrival.

I can't help but be all too aware of my bedraggled appearance. The wild and sweat heavy hair, bloody and torn clothes, sand and dirt laden legs, arms and face, and the fact that I have large panda eyes doesn't exactly make me presentable in a royal court. The guard returns and opens the door for us to walk through. Staying nervously close to Caspen, I walk inside.

The room is large with arching ceilings, chandeliers dangling down above our heads, large glass floor length windows let light cascade into the room which is about a hundred yards long. The floor is made of a white marble and a blue rug runs from the door to the other side of the room. Guards stand on either side of the rug, stiff and stern. In the middle of the room was a large golden thrown in which the Lady Ashe herself sat. Or formerly sat. The Lady now walked towards us, a broad smile on her beautiful face. Next to her walked a knight, aged but kindly looking.

"Caspen, well done in rescuing my friends." Ashe said with a grateful smile to Caspen, who bowed.

"It is my honor to do so, milady."

"Hey there Basch!" Vaan says to the knight next to Ashe.

"Vaan?!" Penelo hisses in his ear. "You're supposed to be respectful! You can't just burst in on royalty saying 'hey there!'"

"It's fine Penelo," Ashe says, "do not worry about it."

"Well, it is certainly nice to see you again, Lady Ashe." Balthier says with a slight incline of his head.

"And you too Balthier, and Fran." Ashe says.

"We have much talking to do." Fran says, shifting her weight from one leg to the next.

"And who is this?" Ashe says, turning her gaze to me. I feel my face burn as the attention is turned to me.

"She travels with us." Balthier says. "Or at least she has been. I suppose she'll be staying with Caspen now."

"Are you a friend of his?" Ashe asks me and I nod politely, trying to recover myself.

"Indeed I am milady." I manage to say.

"Well," Caspen says sternly, "I must not keep you from your catching up. I'll leave now if that is alright?" Lady Ashe nods.

"That is fine." She says.

"Fidel, come with me please. Let's leave them to it." I nod to Caspen and bid farewell to Lady Ashe and the others.

"Have a nice bath!" Balthier calls after me and I laugh a little under my breath. Caspen and I leave the thrown room and walk along the halls.

"I'll take you to your room and there you can wash up. I'll have someone bring you some better clothes while yours are washed mended. Come and find me once your descent and I'll redo your arm."

"'Kay." I say. Suddenly things seemed to have become more official and distant. I guess it's because we're in the castle, but I do miss the old Caspen. Being able to joke and laugh about without worrying about anyone or anything. That side of him has been masked by a suit of armor and a title. I just hope he doesn't loose sight of who he really is.

"I hope you don't mind staying in the knight's wing for now. The others are staying in another wing for guests of the Princess's, but there were only so many rooms you see." I shake my head.

"No, that's fine."

"Good." He says with a familiar smile. "Your room is right next to mine so if you need anything, you know where to come." Our travels take us into a long hallway full of doors and windows. Caspen leads me to a door, way in the back, and hands me a key. "This is your room. I'll leave you to it. I don't get off guard duty for another hour or so, so take your time."

"See you later then." I say, and Caspen walks off. I watch him leave me, wishing he'd come back. Wishing I could run to him and tell him of all my worries and fears, everything. I stand there fantasizing a little bit until he's gone. Mind and heart racing as one.

With a sigh, I open the door to my room. It wasn't huge, but it wasn't that small either. Because it's a knight's room, it was a little cramped and several beds were tightly packed together, but it doesn't look as though anyone's been in them for ages. I pick the middle one and clamber onto it, hoping the I don't dirty the sheets to bad with all the muck caked on me. Rising to my knees, I unfasten the latch to a window and let the warm summer air in. Promptly, I undress and leave my torn clothes lying by the front door so a maid can take them away. I open a door which leads to a large bathroom, obviously shared by a few rooms that held knights.

Hoping no one came in on me, I crossed to the center of the large bathroom and slipped into the large pond of a bath tub. I felt all my muscles relax at once as I floated in the sweet scented water. After letting my body soak for about five minutes, I began to scrub at my dirty body and hair with a few rags found in the room. I also got a soap and shampoo for my hair and body. It felt wonderful to get clean again and scrape away the product of a days hard labor. I stayed in the hot water for a long time, swimming around and soaking all the wonderful liquid in until I was a hume sized prune. I made sure to clean my wounded arm which still bled a little, turning the water around me a reddish brown. The gash was deep, but not too bad, and was about six or seven inches long. It stung and burned as soap touched it, cleaning out any bacteria and infection that might be settling down.

Once I was satisfied with my wound and myself, I climbed out of the bath and wrapped a towel around my waist and hair. After cleaning up the soap and shampoo and puddles of water I was leaving, I went back into my room. Beside my door where my other clothes had been where a few things. New clothes, and a hair brush and ribbon (like I've ever worn one of those). I placed the things on my bed and first took up the new clothes. In my arms I held a jade green dress, plain, but lovely all the same. I then began to brush out my hair and dry it with a towel until it was acceptable. So as not to insult anyone, I used the ribbon to tie my hair back in a short ponytail. It was amazing what a hot bath and change of clothes could do. The sleeves on my dress luckily were short and so I didn't need to worry about dripping blood all over it.

Although strongly tempted to flop down on my bed and sleep, I decided I had better get my arm fixed up first. I left my small room and walked to the chamber across from mine. I wasn't sure if it was Caspen's room, but there was only one way to find out. _Knock, knock, knock._ I wait patiently, hoping this was the right room. A few seconds pass and then I hear footsteps on the other side of the door. The door swings open to reveal a knight who wasn't Caspen.

"Sorry," I say apologetically, "I'm just looking for someone and wasn't sure which room was his."

"Looking for Sir Caspen, miss?" Says the knight and I nod. "He be down in the courtyard. Told me to inform you that he would like to meet you down there once you're ready."

"Ah, thank you." I say and the knight smiles. Just before I'm about to leave, a thought occurs to me. "Uh, one more thing, sir."

"Yes miss?"

"Where's the courtyard?"

After a '_little_' guidance, I found the courtyard. The yard was a large garden in back of the castle, decorated with flowers, vines, bushes, roses, topiaries, fountains, and blossoming trees. With the aroma of a hundred freshly picked flowers, the place was an amazing area to walk in. I step out of the castle and stroll along a small garden path, hoping to find Caspen somewhere in this jungle of splendor.

"For you," Says a voice in my ear from behind. I whirl around to see Caspen standing beside me, a rose in hand. He tucks it behind one of my ears. "Lovely." He comments fondly. I grin sheepishly.

"You been behind me all along have you?" I say knowingly.

"Nay, I've been waiting by that fountain over yonder. I was surprised you didn't see me. Come, I have the stuff for your arm."

"You know you don't have to be so formal." I say as he leads me to the fountain. He heaves a sigh and I sit by the water while he rummages around for a few bandages.

"Yeah, I know that, but the air here is different from all the other places. I get all intimidated and start acting like a gentleman." He sounds a little disgruntled. "Not like I always enjoy acting all proper and stiff legged, but that's the way I have to act."

"No you don't." I say earnestly. "Least not when it's just us." Caspen gives me an exasperated look.

"Yeah, but what if another knight comes? What if I don't get out of the casual mind set and say something offensive to the Lady Ashe?" I giggle.

"You worry a lot. Not like you to worry 'bout what other people got on their minds." His fingers redo the bandage for my arm. "And since when did you start giving me roses?" I say, taking my free hand and lifting the rose out of my hair. I spin the flower around in my fingers a little, trying not to prick myself on a thorn.

"Since I realized how much I've missed you." I look at him, a little startled but touched. His cheeks are flushed with red.

"Well, thank you." Is all I can say. He straightens up, the fixing of my arm finished.

"So tell me," He says, eyes glinting with a the hint of epic adventure I've known so well. Caspen was the guy I'd go wandering around with in deep dark places. The guy who encouraged me to stand up against my fears. He knew me, both my good and bad, and had been there for all of my 'bad girl' moments. I could tell him no lie without him catching it, and I believed I knew him that well too. He was my right arm, my surrogate brother, my friend, "how did you, the one who can't walk outside without thinking twice about the air you breathe, come to travel with pirates of all people? Sure, they seem nice, but so did that stingy bar man who cheated you out of that ten gil, which, I might add, he never gave you." His smile deepens, face sinking into that playful and teasing stare.

"Well," I say starting with an intake of breath, "where to begin?" I start my epic tale from my leaving the Organization, the night Caspen snuck me out. I told him about the play, falling down the stairs and needing rescue from Fran and Balthier. My journey went from the ghost town, to the pirating shores, to us meeting up. It didn't take that long, but by the end I felt as though it had been hours.

"I can't believe you hit on that bar man." He says, exasperatedly, referring to the bar man back in the pirating town.

"I did _not _flirt and _or _hit on him." I protest stubbornly. "I just used a little charm."

"Yeah, yeah, so you say. I bet you bat your eyes real fine. And made those hips shake a little." So vulgar.

"There was no eye batting or hip wobbling, just skill. I can talk remarkably well if you haven't noticed."

"As a matter of fact-" He starts, voice rising as he sits up a little straighter in a mock superiority.

"Don't answer that!" I cut him off, jabbing my finger into his chest, laughing. "Don't answer that!" He laughs too.

"And was this man...attractive?" He pesters, teasingly, almost as though interviewing me.

"Unshaven, pot bellied, sweaty, and beer smelling. I saw him and immediately wanted him to be the father of my child. I asked him flat out but he declined." I shrug sadly. Caspen shakes his head.

"Where have all the good man gone?" He wistfully whispers, still madly shaking his head. I snort.

"Where indeed." I answer back.

"You know," he says looking up at me, "there are still some good men left."

"Like who?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Oh, I don't know. How 'bout the one who's sitting adjacent to yourself. He wears a dashing blue armor and enjoys long sunset walks. _While holding hands_." I snort again.

"What, you?" I look at him, chuckling, but then I see he's serious. My smile fades. He shrugs a little.

"Didn't think it was that surprising." He murmurs, a little hurt.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't think you liked holding hands on the beach." I say as truthfully as I can.

"I guess." He mutters again.

"No, really, I am sorry. I thought you were kidding around." Somehow, I only seemed to make things worse. He seemed a little more melancholy after that. "Sorry." I repeat, shoulders drooping. Caspen shakes his head.

"No, it's not your fault." He looks away, eyes staring off into something I can't see. Can't reach. I want him to take me with him, wherever that made up Caspen-land is. I want to be there too. "Just promise me something," He says.

"Sure." I say with a shrug and a sigh.

"Whatever happens, I mean between us, don't hate me." His voice is almost pleading. Confused, I open my mouth a little to ask why, but never get the chance. He turns around again, and without saying anything, any warning at all, he kisses me softly. Right dead on the lips. Even for an instant, it was a magical thing. With that, he gets up and leaves me. With a shaky pair of hands I touch my lips and sit there on the bench for a few seconds, stunned and numb all over.

I shakily get to my feet, the feeling that I was living in a surreal world all to present in my mind.

"Don't love him, eh?" Says a voice behind me. I swing around, startled, to see Balthier, walking along alone, fresh from a bath.

"Y-you saw?" I stammer, cheeks going red again.

"Witnessed by chance more like. So was it nice?" He teases, only making me go redder.

"I guess," I say awkwardly, reaching around for something more to say. I mean, what else was I supposed to say? It was fun?

"Don't worry, if it had gotten too intimate I would have looked away."

"How kind." I say sarcastically.

"May I ask where it is you are sleeping? I didn't see you come out of a guest bedroom." Balthier says, changing the subject to something that didn't put me on the spot as much.

"I'm staying in the knight's wing. Caspen said that there weren't any more rooms for guests."

"Funny," Balthier said, shaking his head a little, "there are plenty of rooms for guests. This is a royal palace after all."

"Are there?"

"Indeed. Well, I guess the boy wanted you close by."

"Hm," I sigh a little. Truthfully, I wasn't sure I wanted a romantic relationship with Caspen, but then again, I was in love with him. Perhaps I was just nervous about the whole idea. He is my first love and possible lover after all. I guess I just don't want to mess up what we already have.

"By the way," Balthier suddenly says as though the thought had just struck him, "now is the opportune moment to nail that Organization of yours."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you should tell Ashe about that murder. If anyone will put an end to their rain of terror it's her alright." Balthier and I begin walking up a flight of stairs, heading back to our separate rooms.

"Don't you think Caspen would have said something already?" I say.

"It's very likely, but I'd double check with her all the same. Well, I shall see you at dinner, Fidel."

"See you." We part our ways, and I'm left with much to mull over.


	12. Chapter 12

Night's onset brings me to a much needed bed. I flop down and cover myself in sheets, my full stomach making me tired. Dinner went by slower than I had wanted. Caspen seemed to have distanced himself and didn't talk to me at all. In fact, it was as though I wasn't even there. His silence stung a little, but I guess I'd feel awkward too.

There were other people besides our small group of wanders at the meal; a few guests from Nalbina, but no one too intimidating. Honestly, I felt very out of place at dinner. Apparently, most of the knights eat else where, but because I was a friend of Balthier and Fran's, and Caspen had saved Vaan and Penelo, we were allowed to dine with everyone else. I still felt out of place, knowing I wasn't a friend of Ashe's and had hardly spoke to her, yet here I sat in her presence. All through dinner my only thoughts were 'I don't belong here.' And so it was a great relief when the meal finally ended.

Feeling utterly alone and miserable, I headed back up to bed. Perhaps tomorrow I will bring the Lady's attention to my problems, but for now I've had all the rejection I can take. Being the third wheel isn't a cheery feeling.

I pressed my face into the pillow, and as I thought more on it, I felt the tears well up. I hate feeling all 'pity me!' but sometimes I can't help it. I feel so uncomfortable. If only I hadn't been such a prick to Caspen, and if only he could get his head around what he felt. Maybe then I'd have somebody to talk to.

All I want to do is get out of here as fast as I can. Run again. Run free and find some other place for me in the world. Free. Someday I would be free, run to the ocean again and make a new.

It was only a dream, but it gave me some comfort. Thinking 'someday' gave me some hope that things might get better. That Caspen and I would get around this awkwardness. No place to go but up, right? But still, my heart was heavy.

With those last bits of thought running through my mind, I drifted off into a much needed sleep.

My eyes open. It's still the middle of the night and I'm dead tired, but I'm up. I sit groggily up in bed, an unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach making me feel uneasy. Although I'm not sure what, something isn't right. Before, while dreaming, I thought I heard my door open, and felt someone standing by my bedside. I couldn't tell who or why or even if there was anyone there, but still, it's not something one likes to experience.

I sit up, feeling as though I'm being watched. Every little goose bump and hair was standing on end, and it was as though electricity was flowing through my body, tingling every nerve so much so that I had to shudder a few times. My heart and stomach quaked uneasily as I stepped out of bed, careful to be as silent as the grave in doing so. I approached the door and pressed an ear tentatively to it, listening for even the smallest creek of a flood board. I hear nothing and back away from the door a little, my cold and bare ankles shivering a little, not from cold, but fear. A cautious hand reaches for the brass door handle, and I rest it there, unsure if I do want to go exploring.

What could be out there that's dangerous? It is the Lady Ashe's castle after all and her guards protect the castle, even at night. Besides, my mind was restless and what I felt had most likely been the effects of a bad dream. But even still, what was the cold stone in the pit of my stomach? If it was just a dream, why was I so sure that someone had indeed been peering over my bed, watching me.

The image of a dark figure standing in my room makes me shoot my hand back from the door and look over my shoulder in fright. I back away a little from the door and want to hide like a child under the covers. But if there was someone in the castle, someone should check it out, and by the sounds of it, I was the only one who knew of this entity. With a feeble resolve, I began to rummage around in a desk for a candle and matches.

Orange and blue burned the fire; pale and frightened glowed my face. I lifted the flame upward and looked to the small bedside lamp, still burning away by my bed. I had forgot to blow it out, or at least I think I did. Honestly, I don't remember it ever being on. Quickly, I suppress these thoughts and head for the door.

The hallway was dark, no light to guide my way or anyone else's. I softly shut my bedroom door and advance down the hallway, heart beating heavily and quickly against my chest. Along the walls lined shadows, mostly of my self, and occasionally a cloud passing by an open window would conceal the moon outside, making the place even creepier. The moon was but a tiny silver sliver in the sky, and it was so feeble looking against the heavens. The long hallway of doors stretched on in front of me, like some bad nightmare where you're just waiting for some monster to jump out and grab you.

I step out onto the level just above the entrance hall and the grand stair leading to the thrown room. Out a large window, I can see the guards' tower lit and waiting, but besides that there appeared to be no life in the castle besides myself. I walk slowly to the stair and peer down into the darkness, looking at my own grotesque shadow falling to the entrance hall. I remember coming down this stair, bursting from a passage and racing down these steps, praying I could escape. Now I'm walking down these stairs for a very different reason.

My bare feet touch the landing steps, my white night gown shivers a little bit, as though there is a breeze. My ankles shake again and I feel the goose bumps become more pronounced. My head turns right, towards the disturbance, and to my dismay, I see a door slightly ajar with a small light pouring out.

I blow out the candle and make my way to the door, placing the light maker on the bottom stair. I wait behind the door to the room and listen.

"So then, the plan's all set." Says a voice from within. "We're all stationed around the castle, as set, ready for the initial take over."

"As planned," Says a voice I know all to well. I chance a peek inside for but a moment and quickly move away as I see them pace around. It is Caspen, "and I have a guard stationed by the front and back entrances so there can be no escape."

"Do we slay them?" Asks another knight.

"Nay, we use them as bait. You know the Archadian empire won't respond to us if the Lady is dead. No, we let them believe she is well, and summon them out here on business. Then when the King Larsa arrives, we slay both."

"But why must we kill the Lady?" Caspen says, a note of reluctance in his voice. "Didn't the boss says to keep both alive? Or do you have other plans?"

"Because, idiot, she is an ally of the Archadians now. Don't kill her and we'll have more of a problem on our hands. More revolts. No, we use our army and control the people, force them to fight for us. If Rosaria comes into the picture, we fight them too. She'll understand all that. I'll make her."

"So then, what of the girl? We have her here, in our wing, shall we slay her now? Not that it really matters what happened in the past, but I'd so love to just slit her throat."

"Well, why don't you just tell her that to her face? She's right outside the door you know." In a flurry of fast footsteps, I try to run, but a fast hand tangles itself around my wrist. A small scream escapes my mouth, echoing a bit, but is silenced and a metal hand slips over it. "Look who decided to join us, boys. Fidelynn. You both remember her. Screwed over or first plan of take over, thank god you weren't totally in the loop otherwise we would have been caught. But no matter, you won't be in or way much longer, love." It's the bald man from the play, Gladius, a councilor and key strategist in the Organization.

"Well," says a man I know as Caux, his jet black hair and tanned skin easy to recognize without a helmet, "nowhere to run now."

"Give her to Caspen. I think he deserves to kill the most out of us." Gladius says and pushes me into Caspen.

"Wah?" Caspen says, alarmed.

"Go on then, use that new sword you got from the boss. You know, the one she gave you to when you got promoted. Haven't killed with it yet." Caux says, eyes glinting. My frantic and frightened eyes dart to Caspen, looming above me. He looks down at me, face inexpressive. I begin to struggle, trying to break free, but Gladius smacks me hard, and I topple to the ground, spilling from Caspen's arms. I can feel warm blood dribbling down from my mouth where I was struck. The _ shing _ of a sword being freed of it's scabbard reaches my ears. Caspen's feet move from behind me to in front. He pauses, and I look up at him, him down at me.

My mind goes numb.

"Ashes to ashes." He whispers, and raises the sword high above his head. My wounded arm trembles. And I shut my eyes tightly.

And then a gun's fire goes off, echoing around the castle. Everyone stands in a stunned silence. Caspen's sword falls to the ground.

"Lucky I like midnight strolls," comes Balthier's voice from the door. Caspen falls to the ground before me and the two other men quickly flee the scene through two side passage ways. I sit there, shakily staring at the body of my Caspen. _ My _ Caspen who had always been there for me, always. And now-

"Fidel!" Barks Balthier, quickly coming over. "What happened? I need you to tell me everything." My mind can't focus, all I can see is the dead body lying in front of me. I can see the blood dripping over Caspen, erupting from the bullet wound in the back of his head. How red blood is. I thought it would be darker, but no, it's brighter. That can't possibly be blood, can it?

Balthier moves in front of Caspen and hunches down to my level, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"H-he's dead." I stammer weakly. "_ Y-you _ killed him."

"Fidel, I need you to focus. I need you to tell me what happend. Please," I look into Balthier's face. No, this couldn't be happening. Caspen wasn't dead. He hadn't betrayed me. He couldn't have. It wasn't him, not the man I loved. He couldn't be dead. "Fidel," Balthier says again, "speak to me."

"Caspen," I breathe, seeing but not seeing, thinking but not, "I don't understand. You left them. You left-"

"Never left-" Balthier says in a breath. The tears start to overflow as my drained body sits on the cold ground.

"Balthier!" Comes a frantic voice from the door and then an intake of air follows. "What happened?!" It was Penelo, closely followed by both Fran and Vaan.

"No time to explain I'm afraid. But we are all in serious danger." Balthier says quickly.

"H-he's dead." Penelo says in shock, looking at Caspen's body.

"Part of some scheme apparently."

"And how do you knows this?" Vaan says in an accusatory way.

"Had to put two and two together. Fidel is in no mind for much talking right now I'm afraid." Balthier says, looking back at me. "She saw the hole thing."

"Fidel," Vaan says, turning his attention to me, "look, I know this is hard right now, but please! You have to tell us something." I look to Vaan. I felt numb all over, and the tears wouldn't stop.

"Get the Lady Ashe out of here." I say. "She's in the most danger."

"Ashe?!" Penelo says panic stricken.

"Can you tell us anything else?!" Vaan barks at me. "Like why are they after her?"

"Leave her," Fran says to Vaan, putting a hand on his shoulder, "she is in shock and needs time."

"Time that we don't have." Vaan snaps back.

"Look," Balthier says, "we don't have _time _for this. Two men who were with Caspen just ran off, no doubt accomplices. Soon this place will be infested with these people. Fran and Vaan, go and get Ashe and Basch, we have to leave this place as fast as possible before more people die." Balthier says bitterly looking at Caspen. "Only then will it be safe to play catch up. Meet us down in the dungeons afterwards." Vaan nods.

"Right!" He says and the two run off.

"What about me?" Penelo says

"We have to get down into the dungeons. Help me get Fidel down there. We won't go far, but we should hide until the others find us." Balthier and Penelo help me to my feet. As though I were a child, I'm lead by the hand out of the room where Caspen's body lies, and I feel a bit of my heart die away.


	13. Chapter 13

The dungeons of Dalmasca are like any other dungeon: cold, murky, dank, and full of the smell of mold spore. Darkness cloaks the three of us like snow covering grass; it's suffocating and cold. There were a few slowly burning torches, dim and lowly, but far from enough to provide sufficient light.

We huddle in a corner, crouched down and hidden among and behind boxes. Balthier listens intently for the sounds of approaching footsteps while Penelo keeps a close eye on the passages around from the eye-hole in her box. I sit, trying to pull myself together and hold it all it.

I hate having to swallow my grief and betrayal and anger like sour medicine, but it's necessary. In this life or death situation I can't be caught up in grief and lay about crying my eyes out, that could cost me my life and the others theirs. Although I realize this, that if I become so selfish that it kills the others, part of me doesn't care. Part of me doesn't care if they live or die. I'm angry at them. For making me feel so alone and like an outcast. Like Caspen didn't even matter. Doesn't matter.

I look over at the blob who's Balthier and feel only cold hate for him. Although he was only protecting me, he still killed my best friend and didn't even apologize or say anything to console me. He knew how I felt and still feel about Caspen, and yet he pulled the trigger so fast. Who knew if Caspen was really going to kill me? Maybe he would have gotten cold feet, dropped the sword, and we could run away together forever, just like he promised. He promised me forever, and now that forever, that dream, is gone. Shattered by a bullet to the back of the head. 

I can feel tears starting to well up, but I push them down, pushing them down into my broken heart and closing them behind a door. Numbness spreads over me again, and I sit in stony silence.

The silence is broken by the sound of soft footsteps, a few footsteps in fact.

"Balthier!" Hisses Penelo, "It's them. We're okay." She gives a little sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Penelo." He says calmly and stands up, careful not to knock something over as he did so. I heard Penelo scrambling around a little to get out of her box, feet sliding over wood, hands pulling herself out. I stand too.

"Who is there?" A hoarse and gruff whisper barks in the dark with authority.

"Relax, Basch, it is only Penelo, Fidel and myself. I can give you my name too if you like..." He offers.

"Nay, good fellow, I do not need your name. Who could forget?"

"Who could forget indeed." Balthier sighs.

"Come on, have you forgotten out situation?" Vaan says.

"Aye, the boy is right." Fran whispers. "We could not locate the Lady. She was nowhere to be found and I fear her taken already."

"Taken?!" Basch almost blows our cover as his voice rises.

"Shhh!" Penelo whispers warningly. "I take it you didn't tell him."

"No time. We have to do that later." Vaan says. "Look, once we get out of here, we can come up with a plan. And we'll need Fidel to fill in the details for us too."

"Think you can manage it alright?" Balthier voices to me, some of the only somewhat concerned words I've heard from his mouth. I want to hiss 'murderer!' at him, but I dare not.

"I'm fine." I say a little more harshly then I needed to be, feeling defensive.

"Good to hear." Balthier says, ignoring my tone. "Now Basch, do you know anyway out of here that could get us past the guards unnoticed?"

"I do," He says at once, "it's not far from here, but we'll need to stick together. One can easily get lost."

"I don't like the sounds of that." Penelo worriedly states.

"What other choice do we have?" Vaan says. "Everywhere else is blocked off. And come on Penelo, we can take whatever's down here." Vaan encouragingly says.

"Yeah," She says, but doubtfully.

"Come, we must go before they find us." Fran says.

"Lead the way Basch." Said Vaan, trying to sound at least a little more spirited. Basch took to the head of our group.

"We need light." Basch states, a little edgy. The capture of Ashe must have rattled him a little. He's a devoted knight and I guess he feels slightly responsible for letting her fall pray to the enemy.

From what I had heard of this Basch, he spent much of his time as a knight for both Archades and Dalmasca. A tie between the two empires. His exact jobs and duties were unknown to me, but whatever they were, they were very important and demanding.

"Here," Fran holds out a hand and a small white ball appears in it after a few moments, slowly getting brighter, "it will last longer than any torch in this place. But do not drop it." She passes the ball of magic light into Basch's outstretched hand. "Let us go." And we head into the darkness.

The hidden passage out of here turned out to be behind a shelf of old and dusty wine. We easily moved the shelf and climbed into a large cavern. Balthier, who made up the rear of the line we traveled in, pulled the shelf back to where it needed to be so no guard would follow, but I thought I heard a bottle of wine crash against the floor as he did so.

The caverns in which we stood were thousands of years old, dating back to when the hume race was meager and powerless tribe of creatures who lived under the ground in caves. According to Basch, a small almost sort of empire grew here in these caverns which soon became over crowded. People migrated out of the tunnels and caves to live above ground and soon the city was forgotten. That was how many of the empires took root, evolving from people who dwelled in caverns and caves, to those who walked in the sun. The Dalmascan empire has sought to use these caverns as a means of escape if ever the time came to flee, but do to cave-ins and landslides underground, this place was considered just as deadly as any army, so it went unused.

I walked along in the steady drip of the high vaulted ceilings, feeling nervous. I had no weapon to fight with if we were to come across any trouble down in these caverns. Everyone else seemed to be carrying something. I guess my shriek before a hand slipped over my mouth had put the few listeners into a fright. I was also still in my night gown and was cold to the marrow. I shivered a little and hoped I wouldn't catch a cold.

"There might be a place to rest for the night down here." Basch said after we had been traveling for a while.

"Are you kidding?" Vaan incredulously whispers in the dark, "Sleep here? We could get attacked."

"By what?" Penelo says. "I don't hear or see anything."

"Oh come on, it's dark and wet and stuff." Vaan protested.

"I thought you liked this sort of thing? Just the thing a sky pirate would enjoy." Balthier pokes at Vaan.

"You seriously want to sleep here?" Vaan speaks in a disbelieving voice.

"If the time calls for it, I'll sleep anywhere." Balthier says in a casual way as though sleeping on hard cold stone was a luxury. "Just set up a fire is all I ask. And maybe a little something to eat."

"With what?" Argues Vaan, obviously tired and fed up with everything.

"Hush," Fran murmurs, "listen." We stopped our bickering. From close by, though we couldn't tell where, there came a shuffling sound, as though feet were being dragged along the ground. Heavy feet, that sounded as if weights were placed on each appendage, and the steady scuffling and scraping was eerie to the ears. Like sandpaper on wood almost. It seemed to be coming from everywhere.

"Stay close," Basch says, and I hear the sliding of metal on a scabbard, "those are no soldier feet I hear." I feel a shiver run up an down my spine. Soft moans come from around us, and it was as though our stalkers were in pain. Unending pain.

"The undead." Mutters Fran, pulling the bow from her back and she cocks an arrow.

"Well, wouldn't be a night without them, would it?" Balthier says, drawing his guns. I look around for something to fight with, but can only see rocks littering the floor. I grimace; magic is my only weapon. I draw my spells closer to the tip of my tongue, ready to cast.

"Why don't we give them a show?" Vaan says in an almost excited tone. It was at least something to break the monotony of walking.

"Let's." Balthier says. At that, both he and Fran send bullet and arrow into the darkness. There comes a hideous shriek from the dark like that of a wounded dog. Basch pushes the small light he's been carrying into my hands at the start of the battle. The white orb flashes once.

"Keep this light going, do not drop it." He whispers in my ear. Out of the dark, to step into our circle of light, come the undead warriors, old and forgotten with the sands of time. Their mangled and rotted flesh has long since decayed, leaving only bone which bares no clothes. Despite their nakedness, I know they are far from weak. These undead have an aura the radiates hatred and black magic for those trespassing on this resting place.

Vaan lunges at an approaching skeleton warrior, sticking at it with his mace. He was backed up by Penelo while Basch advances on another dead knight. Fran and Balthier continue to rain the air with bullets and arrows, hitting their marks with precision of years of experience. And I stand with my light, trying to keep it bright enough to give the fighters something to see with.

From behind I hear a clicking of bones. Whirling about, I see an undead coming at me from the shadows, slinking up. I raise an arm to cast a spell, but remember it's wounded. I fumble with the light to pass it to my weak arm, careful to pass it gently so as not to drop it. The heat scorches my other hand unexpectedly and I give a little cry as the skin sizzles with the white hot fire. I almost drop the light, but it cools quickly. My lack of attention to the undead cost me. It swung at my other arm with it's bone hand and I stumble to one side. The fist clutching the white fire closes over it briefly as I stagger, my fingers singeing a little. Quickly I back away and begin summoning Aero. The warrior chases after me, its walk deranged and jerky. It swings again and I brace myself for another attack, another blow that will burn my fingers, but it never comes. A bullet passes by my shoulder and hits the undead in it's head, sending the skull clean from the shoulders. Startled, my Aero attack launches itself and misses the lumbering body by inches.

"Careful there." Balthier says a few feet away. I feel anger rise again. Defending myself I could do on my own. I angrily turn on him, the fight lost to my mind.

"I don't need your protection!" I snap, feeling myself bristle like a mad dog. "Haven't you done enough for me already?" He appears a little startled at my reaction, face becoming puzzled and almost concerned as though he didn't quiet understand. Then his expression softens a little but became more grave as he understood the heart of my anger. At least we were now on the same page. I turn around angrily, wanting to take this rage out on some undead staggering around, knowing I couldn't kill Balthier, but I would love nothing more than to unleash this next spell right through his cold heart.

"I apolo-" He's cut short as an undead comes in on him, and the battle commences.

* * *

Hey everyone! I thought I would inform everyone that 99.9 of my story, Dreams of the sky pirate, is already written up. I started posting it up on Quizilla back in November and have been faithfully writing it ever since. I'm on the last chapter, my epilogue, chapter 44, and by this weekend it'll be posted. My user if Nobody8 if you can't wait for me to post up here-but, reading this version is a little better. I get another chance or two to edit, add foreshadowing, more detail, less detail, better character development, etc. Somethings, subtle detail, won't match up 100. This version is the better read, but both are good. People on Quizilla seem to like it any way and you get to witness my mediocre banner making and interesting yet hard to read layouts!!! lol! anyway, I thought I would just post up here. Thanks! 

_-Intwilight _


	14. Chapter 14

The battle went on. Swords met bone. Arrow pierced marrow. And skeleton tore flesh. My MP was totally depleted by the end of the fight, and I bore many scratches and tears in my skin, more so than anyone else. But still I stood, holding the light in one hand. After collecting the items dropped by the dead fighters, we clumped back together.

"Well done," Basch said to me, taking the light from my hand, "You kept it well lit. And here, a skeleton dropped this." He handed me a long spear whose tip glinted in the small luminance in the man's hand. I took the spear and thanked him for finding it for me. The weapon was light and a fair match for any foe in these caverns, but I was not the greatest at wielding such weaponry.

"I think it time to find a place to rest for the night." Fran said. "We have a few wounds that need treatment, and our strength dwindles."

"Yeah, I'm beat." Vaan said, stretching a bit. Penelo raised an eyebrow.

"What happened to the 'I can't sleep here' protest?" She said in a sort of amused way.

"Uh, it's like Balthier said, 'if the time calls for it, I'll sleep anywhere.'"

"Uh-huh." Said she and her voice cracked a little as she laughed. "At least you're not complaining." Vaan looked a little sheepish.

"Come on," Basch says, silencing the two, "we must find a place to stay before it gets too late in the day."

"Just how long does this place go on for, I wonder." Balthier's voice adds itself in as he looks off into the darkness with slight awe.

"So long as we continue our path directly through these caves, we should have no problem getting out." Basch responds.

"We also need Fidel to tell us what's going on." Vaan says, looking at me. "Can't forget that."

"We'll do that once we find a suitable place for rest." Fran adds to Vaan's point. "We must not make too much noise until then. This place could have more undead as all ancient burial places do." Another long and cold shiver runs up my spine, and we walk on.

Time passes and we leave the burial ground, coming to stop at a natural alcove built in one of the walls which was a mile or so away from the land of the dead. The ceiling is only about seven or so feet high, and the diameter is about fifteen feet across, just enough room to lie our bodies down in. Fran takes the small light from Basch and closes her hand entirely around the fire. It dies away with a hissing sizzle, smoke curling up from her fingers like serpents. Our small group hangs back as Fran conjures up a small fire in the center of the alcove, lighting the place up instantly, spreading a magical and welcome warmth over us. I feel the goose bumps recede back into the skin of my legs.

"Absorb the heat, but do not touch or cook with." The viera says. She is truly a mystery with her spells and knowledge, and such beauty I've never seen. A true enigma.

Clustering around the fire, we sit in a circle. I plant myself between Penelo and Fran. Vaan takes his place by Penelo who complains that he'll be snoring in her ear all night. Basch daringly takes his place by the snorer, and Balthier by him, next to Fran. Drawing my legs up to my chest, I stare sleepily into the fire, hoping that the talks do not carry on for much longer.

"So, Fidel, I would very much like it if you told us now why the Lady is gone and our empire taken." Basch humbly says, his voice very gentle. I watch the flames flicker and dance, soaking in the rays, drawing in its energy. Talking about things better left forgotten, especially now with a new hurt festering, would be difficult. But I suppose I owe them some sort of explanation. This problem was now shared by not only myself, but these people and many others as well. Even still, could it not wait until after we slept a while?

"Yes, please, we need to know." Penelo gently says, catching a flicker of resentment of my face. I chew my lip slowly, and I give a short nod.

Taking a deep and silent sigh, I begin with a resentful heart.

"I'll start from the beginning, where I woke up." I pause a moment, collecting each thought, making sure I was avoiding touching on something too painful. "I'm not exactly sure what startled me, but something woke me up. Something just didn't feel right, you know? Every little hair was standing up like they do when you know something is amiss." I shiver. "I looked around my room, but couldn't see anybody or anything weird there. But I couldn't shake the feeling that somebody _had_ been there all the same though, so I wanted to go see for myself. See if there was anything odd.

"I ventured down stairs, into the entrance hall and had found a door was open. The room was all lit up. That was strange because no other lights were on, so I checked it out and heard voices. There were three of them. From what I understood of the conversation, some knights hired by the castle were part of an old group that I once belonged to. They call themselves the _Anti-Arcadian Relief Force and Liberation Organization_. The name says it all. They are a rebel group bent of taking revenge on the Archadian empire for all that they did to Ivalice during the take over. They believe that destroying the empire will rejuvenate the world and correct those 'sins' committed by Archades. In the end, they don't care who they kill as long as Archadia falls. Just a bunch of terrorists. In this case, they're using Dalmasca as bait to draw out Archadia and infiltrate the empire. From what I know and figure, they plan on using the Lady Ashe to draw out the Archadian King. What will happen after that, I do not know. But your Lady is in serious danger. As is the King." I conclude, avoiding bringing up the part of Caspen and Balthier.

A profound and crestfallen silence follows my words.

"If," Basch says weakly, "what you say is true, then it seems we must act fast."

"Any ideas how long it'll take these rebels to contact Archadia?" Vaan questions.

"Knowing them, a messenger will be sent out tomorrow. They are very good at acting fast and with as little suspicion as possible. Chances are, no one outside the castle, besides us, knows of this."

"How long will it take for the messenger to get there?" Penelo asks.

"That depends on who takes the message." Balthier says knowledgeably. "If they use a sky ship, it could be anywhere from a few hours, to a day depending on weather. By foot or chocobo, a few days. Either way, we must make haste."

"I say," Vaan says, "we intercept the messenger and then spread word about the situation to as many people as possible. Get them all aware, that way they'll all be on their guards."

"But what if we don't make it in time?" Penelo points out.

"Then we go straight to Larsa." Fran says. "We are honored guests to him. He will listen to us."

"But the Lady," Basch says in a worried tone, "will she be alright?"

"They won't kill her until they have Archadia." I say. "She's to valuable to knock off right now." Basch still seems worried. With good reason too.

"It seems as though we put much faith in Larsa to end this before it starts." Fran says darkly. "Far too much."

"It's all we've got." Vaan says to her. "It'll take an army to do anything about it."

"True." Fran nods, but it's clear she still has doubts.

"I'm sure it'll be fine." Penelo says, trying to sound somewhat hopeful.

"With any luck, we should find Larsa before anything else happens." Balthier says, satisfied. "This will all be over soon." He leans back and puts his arms under his head.

"The man is right," Basch nods in agreement, "this will end soon." Somehow, the optimism didn't seem to help in lightening the mood. It was strained and fake. It was hard for all of us to imagine the damage done and being dealt currently. Never had an empire fallen so fast.

"Let us rest." Fran says, not appearing the least bit tired.

"We can't sleep long." Vaan yawns and leans back onto the stony and uncomfortable ground. Everyone else follows suit, making what they could of the earth around. I wrap my arms behind my head and stare up that ceiling, at the shadows dancing on the roof above my head. The pain in my chest unbearable.

I sleep for a little while, honestly I wasn't sure how long. Waking up and then drifting off again only to be woken up by someone turning over beside me. The sorrow and grief and torment was in me so deep that not even my dreams could stop it. It was like a river that had flooded it's banks during a heavy storm which hadn't ended for days. So much rain in such little time that the small river couldn't hold it all in, and slowly the waters would rise until everything around it was consumed. I felt like I was drowning and couldn't get back up to the surface, and slowly I was loosing the struggle to stay alive. To keep my fire burning in all of this water.

I roll over onto one side and wonder how many of us lying here were actually asleep. Slowly, as I watched the dirty ground, my eyes sagged, body relaxing, mind closing off all conscious thought, I feel asleep, but far from peace.

Third Person POV

"You are troubled, that is why you can't sleep." Fran whispers to Balthier whose eyes are lightly closed. At this, they flicker open and come to stare at the ceiling. "What troubles you?" Balthier shook his head and rolled over onto one side.

"Nothing," He says, a little defeated, trying and missing to wave the question away.

"You know I know when you lie. Tell me. You are not the only one with a heavy heart." Balthier was silent a few moments more.

"It's Fidel," He says slowly but then shakes his head, "she's angry at me. Understandably so, even though it was for the best." Fran is silent, letting Balthier think back and reflect. "Caspen... the young boy was foolish. Part of the whole plot to destroy Archades and the whole lot of them. He broke that girl's heart, and I was the one who shot him. No matter what the situation is, what is true and what is not, she blames me. I attacked her while she was far too vulnerable to accept what was really going on. I should know, shouldn't I?"

"You must talk to her. That is the only way her heart will mend. And who knows, it may heal yours." Wisely Fran says. Balthier raises an eyebrow and rolls back onto his back.

"What makes you think it's still broken?" He asks quizzically.

"How do I know? How can you doubt me? It appears in your every action and word." Fran turns her head to look at Balthier.

"My every word, eh?" He goes silent a few seconds. "I can't talk to her. What would I say? 'Sorry?'" He laughs a little again. "'Sorry' wouldn't have done anything for me back then. I'm not sure if I'd accept it now." He shakes his head, eyes staring up at the dancing shadows of the fire above. "She hates me, and I can't say I blame her."

"She may think she hates you," Fran said slowly and quietly, "but in her heart she knows it was for the best."

"Maybe, but that still doesn't mean I can get through to her."

"You have not given up before."

"I never said I wouldn't do it, it's just I don't think it'll work. Besides, I can't exactly speak to her while we wander these caves. Chances are she doesn't like to show vulnerability coming from a group of strangers, not when she's trying to pull herself together. People like her who are taught to kill at a youthful age don't take pride in tears."

"And how do you know this?" Fran asks.

"I was a judge, remember? I may not have been ordered to kill, but showing sorrow after growing up like that... it's not something people like that do."

"But, you will talk to her?"

"Yes," sighs Balthier, "I'll talk to her. But what difference it will make, don't bother to ask." With that his eyes close again in the hopes of sleeping, but he knew that no sleep would befall him that night.


	15. Chapter 15

There was no morning light to wake us, just the rousing of Basch, realizing that we had slept for too long.

"Time to get moving everyone." He said in a groggy voice, suppressing a yawn. Vaan muttered indistinctly under his breath and rolled over, falling back asleep. The half awake Penelo elbows him hard.

"Get up sleepy head." She says, trying to be forceful but failing miserably to do so in her exhausted state.

"Right now?" Vaan muttered, annoyed.

"Yes now." Penelo got to her feet and stretched, as did Fran without the stretching.

"Fine," Murmured Vaan, yawned, and sat up, stretching his arms. Balthier was next to stand, expression haggard as though he hadn't slept much the night before at all. Serves him right. Penelo helps me to my feet, and I'm over taken by a wave of dizziness do to standing to fast. I stager a little and slump to the wall a moment.

"Get up too fast?" Says Penelo in a positive and energetic voice, her sleepiness melting away.

"Just a bit." I laugh a little and so does she.

"Come on Penelo," Vaan says in a kill-joy voice, "we don't have time for laughing."

"Oh, stop it Vaan." Penelo shakes her head.

"It was worth a shot." He says, scratching the back of his head. The pair of them are so much like an old married couple. Always bickering, know each other far too well, but still amidst it all they care about one another.

"We'll have to make haste if we want to get out of here in time to catch the messenger." Basch says, picking up where he left off in his planning.

"What will we do when we find him?" I ask. "Kill them?"

"We may have need to do that if the situation gets ugly." Basch says. "I hope you are ready for bloodshed."

"Don't worry, I can handle it." I say, sounding confident.

"Traveling with us usually leads to bloodshed in one way or the other." Balthier comments.

"You look as though you had a rough night, old friend." Basch says to Balthier.

"I've slept better nights, I'm not going to deny that." Balthier says honestly.

"Don't push yourself too hard today. Save the energy."

"Easier said than done in these circumstances."

"Indeed."

"So," Vaan interrupted the two mens' conversation, "how far is it until we're out of these caves."

"Not long." Fran answers. "We can be out of here in perhaps three hours if we walk fast."

"That's a relief." Penelo sighs. "I'm sick of this place."

"Cheers to that." I agree.

I clutch the spear Basch gave me with white knuckled hands. The sleep I got the night before wasn't much, but it was enough to clear the fog in my head and sharpen the senses. Every drip, creak, echo, and footstep sounded like approaching monsters in the dark. And indeed, we stumbled upon some, many actually, but every time I find it only to be an undead or mimic, and I feel the tension in my heart subside a little. I suppose I fear something else in these caves, although I'm not sure what.

Hours pass, and I can feel blistering appearing on my palms from the spear, its wood rubbing in all the wrong ways against my skin. Lifting one hand to my face, I study the pustules and wince a little. Redness and rawness meets the eye. I try to close my hand a little, but it stings too much.

"Damn it," I mutter under my breath. How handicapped can I get?

"Everything alright?" Balthier asks me from nowhere.

"Fine," I say briskly and coolly, taking the spear in my blistered hand with defiance. Instantly, I regret doing so. I grip the wood so hard in my anger, I feel a few of the puss pods burst open. Instinctively, I drop the stick. It clatters to the floor and substance rolls down my hand, tinted with the rouge stain of blood.

"Blisters?" He says knowingly. The rest of the group turns around to look at us. I flush angrily and hastily pick up my spear with the blistered hand just to show I'm tough enough to handle the pain.

"It's nothing." I mutter in a forceful voice, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

"Fine," Balthier says, putting his hands up in a mock surrender, "just thought you'd like some help."

"I can carry my weapon fine enough, thanks." Spits I.

"Suit yourself." He says lightly, brushing away my anger like cobwebs. Slowly, everyone turns around again, a little uncomfortable. A small pang of guilt stabs at my insides as I look to the faces of my companions. Although they had done nothing against me, my anger and sour feeling still rubbed off to them. I didn't mean to spread this heaviness I carry, but it can't be helped. My heart grieves on, and my mind is bitter with unresolved conflicts and betrayal, twisted and wrapped up in a wild and furiously confused anger. In my attempts to cover up what scars are forming, I show my emotions in other ways. There is no hiding them completely.

I switch my spear to the unwounded hand and look down at the burst blisters, watching little beads of blood appear on the skin.

"Up ahead!" I hear Basch say, and I can't tell if his voice is fearful or happy. It seem to quaver in the air a little, the power in it ebbing slightly.

"Light!" Penelo excitedly says.

"But there is something in the way of that light." Fran says.

"What?" Vaan questions, gripping his mace. There came an answer, but not from one of us.

"What indeed young master?" Says a snide voice from the dark. Basch extends the light filled hand outward, and the faint glow falls upon a figure, a woman, whom I know well.

"Who's there?" Van says defensively gripping his mace.

"Oh, I would put the mace down if I were you." She calls in a singsong like way. The lady steps forward a little, and I can better see her long stringy brown hair pulled into a pony tail which falls to her back. The light catches her gaunt and pale face, and panda eyes, large sleep deprived circles noticeable from a mile away. Her face, as I remember it, is long and pointed, almost snake like and skeletal. Her body is bony thin and agile do to her youth. Spindly spider fingers caress the staff on her back as she plays with the idea of bringing it out.

"Just who are you?" Basch barks. The woman laughs and I sense movement behind her as the darkness and light shifts a little.

"Little Fidelynn over there knows. Isn't that right love? You and I go way back." She titters a little. "I call myself Amithi, and I was sent to destroy you. I dare say I needn't tell you by whom." Her fingers deftly flip the staff from her shoulder. From the dark I can clearly see the glint of a few sword. Amithi steps into the light, and we draw out our weapons. From the dark emerges a small band of undead, along with a few henchman from the Organization.

"Just what is it you want?" Penelo says, a little tentative.

"Haven't figured it out yet, girly? Your head. We can't have you messing up our plans, now can we?" She says with a cheeky smile. Basch pushes the small light into my hands. Damn it, how am I supposed to fight with a spear and a light? Not to mention my hands are already blistered and burned enough.

Amithi grins widely, and with a short twist of a finger her dead spring to life upon us.

"Here!" Balthier takes up my spear and pushed his gun into my free hand. "Use it well." He says, and before I can mutter a single word of protest, he's already driven the spear through a dead creature.

I cock the gun with uncertainty. Only a few times in the past have I used a gun, and my fingers are not used to the make of this weapon. I aim and falter a little, pointing the gun at a henchman about fifteen feet away, trying to test out the weapon, and my hand shakes a little. From beside me I hear the scuffle of bone on stone, and I whirl to my right, instantly pulling the trigger. Merely a foot away, I blast the skull clean from the bony shoulders, leaving the body to crumble to the ground as the head rolls away.

Breathing harder than I should, I look up at my next attacker. They're on top of my quickly, swinging a dagger to and fro. I dodge this way and that, avoiding the poison tipped blade. I pulled back on the trigger and pump a few bullets into the ribs of the soulless warrior. Bone flies in every direction, and soon the skull knight lies in a heap on the floor.

I look up just in time to see a large fireball streaming towards me, cast by Amithi herself. Although she is covered by both Van and Basch, she spares little thought in chancing an attack at me. The fire hurtles towards me with lightening speed. I duck down barely in the nick of time, and I can feel the hot fire singing a few stray hairs on my head. The fire hits the chamber wall, sending a small cascade of rocks down over my head. My feet cause me to stumble as the rocks pound down upon me, causing me to bruise up. I hit the hard stone floor and nearly loose my grip on the fire. It burns away a little at the skin, but my hand is so far in pain that it seems to be immune to the fire.

I stagger up, out of the rubble, rocks falling down around me. I get up with barely have time to raise my gun and fire it at an attacking dead approaching me. The bullet pierces bone, and shards of marrow fly off in every direction. I hold the hand carrying the light up to protect my face against the onslaught of bone fragments.

My eyes wander to the rest of the party, fighting the dead, henchman, and Amithi. The number of dead and other fighters from within the cave has increased. They seem to be coming out of the shadows and darkness around. When one falls, another appears to fight in its place.

Amithi has always had a knack for summoning creatures to her aid, despite her deathly appearance and manner that is as cold as ice. As I watch, I notice that Vaan and Basch are now attacking undead, not the woman. I look around for her fallen body, but don't see it. My heart beat quickens a bit as I look for her, fighting amongst the rest, but I can't locate her. Suddenly the gun in my hand feels very small.

"Looking for something?" Says a teasing voice in my ear. My head snaps right and I'm nose tip to nose tip with my opponent. "Or maybe," she whispers, "you're looking for someone. To bad he's dead." Her hand moves with deadly speed, staff in hand, upward, into my gut. My hand lets Balthier's gun clatter to the cave floor as I wretch, spitting blood. I lean forward on the wood with the force of her attack. Her laugh rings in my ear, and she tosses me from her weapon, onto the floor. I lie there, trying hard to stay conscious.

Amithi's feet stop in front of me, staff casually at her side. "It's a pity you left us, Fidelynn. After all we did for you and everything. You could have been a strong fighter. But no matter, your fate is your own choice." She winds her hand back to deliver the final blow.

In an instant, my hand which has been fastened around this little ball of magical light lets go. Without thinking, I fling the light at her feet. I scramble upwards, pushing my beaten body up with as much force as I can. I catch sight of the light, white and blinding, exploding from the small orb a mere few feet away.

My eyes shut quickly and scream out for everyone to run as fiery white hot heat issues out of the orb. My cry is soon lost as everything, sound and darkness, is sucked into the power of the magical orb. My blistered hands move to cover my eyes and I run blindly through the caves, tripping over stones and cracks in the ground.

Feet carrying me in the direction I think the cave exit is, and I hurtle down the path. The sound of running water, a steady hum from somewhere, and the gentle flow of the wind reach my ears, cutting through the soundless maze I run through, My instincts push me faster, frightful and begging to be free from the fires that follow me.

A fast hand tightens around my elbow, pulling my hands from my eyes, which are still tightly shut. My body flies to one side and I land sprawled on the ground. It takes me a few moments to realize that I'm outside. The smell of smoke and the crackle of fire is carried on the wind.

"Well," Says a voice above me, "that is certainly a way to end a battle." It's Balthier. I hear Fran sigh in a disapproving way beside me.

"Far too dangerous," she says, "we almost did not make it."

"Yeah," says Vaan's voice, "but at least we got away."

"Very true, but it appears as though no one will be traveling those caves for a while." Basch says. My eyes open. I can see everyone standing around, watching the burning cave as I lie on the ground, chest heaving from my run. We are not far from the cave, only about twenty or so feet, but the danger won't reach us.

The small explosion of the orb was contained enough to stay in the cave, but everything inside didn't stand a chance in that fire. It's a miracle we all made it out. Above me is the open skies, and tied down to the ground floated an airship, obviously what we had seen from the ancient city. The silver gray color glinted as the sun caught it. "I think," Basch continues, looking down at me lying in the grass, "it would be best if you told us a bit more about this clan of yours. If they found us this fast, I would like to know what kind of people they are."

"Right," I say in a pained voice. My face feels caked in blood and dirt from the battle, and my body aches all over. How I wish to just sleep.

"Well," Balthier says, looking up at the sky ship, "it seems we have found our solution to the time problem, wouldn't you say?"

"Sure you can fly it?" Penelo teases.

"I think I can manage it." Balthier looks down at me, spear slung across his shoulders, one hand draped over it. "I take you lost my gun in that explosion." A stab of guilt pierces my stomach, and I can feel a slight embarrassed tinge spreading across my face. "No matter," he says, looking back up at the sky, "high time I got a new one anyway."

"Come on," Basch says, "it's time we went on our way."


	16. Chapter 16

"So," Vaan said as we sat in the sky ship, "what are we doing about capturing the messenger? Considering how fast those people found us, the messenger probably already has reached Archades."

"Well, I think that's Fidel's call." Balthier says from the pilot's seat. Fran is bent over my hands, bandaging them while Penelo sits slumped in a seat, trying hard not to fall asleep. Basch sits next to me, I guess so he can interrogate me as need be. I have my knees drawn up into my chest nervously.

I don't want to say anything. Don't feel like socializing. Can't anybody see that? What difference does it make so long as we get there? So long as we tell _somebody, _who cares?

"Fidel?" Penelo tiredly turns to me, blinking back sleep. I feel very melancholy, unable to hold all of the weight in my chest back. The more it all sinks in, the greater my sense of loss it, and the further I sink. "Fidel?" She says in a slightly sing song fashion.

I sigh.

"Considering how fast they tracked us down, I guess they already know where we're headed and our motives."

"But we beat that girl didn't we?" Penelo says tiredly. "Do you think they'll know we killed her?"

"There's a good chance they will. Or at least when she doesn't call in. If that's the case, they'll figure we took the sky ship and will send other ships to hunt us down."

"Should we abandon it then and walk to Archades?" Basch suggests, a grim expression on his face.

"That might be a good idea," I say, "but they can track us easily on land. Their sky ships are well equipped for seeking out pray."

"And how do they do that?" Fran says, looking up from her work on my hands.

"They have special radars that lock onto a target. When they first developed this technology, they took a blood sample from everyone in the Organization. That way they could keep tabs on everyone. The radars can find the person, so long as you have their blood code punched in."

"Which is how they keep finding you no doubt." Balthier knowledgably says.

"Yes, and that's why I can't stay in one place for too long. The radars can only pick up the blood samples to a certain distance, about fifty miles or so from the nearest sky ship. Or at least that's the case when you're on land. Under the ocean or under ground it doesn't work."

"Why?" Vaan asks.

"Because, these people operate under the ocean and ground. That's where they have their bases, which is why no one knows about them. The wave emitted from the radars can't pierce either. That way if one of their ships get into enemy hands, their bases are hidden."

"Then how did they find us?" Penelo wonders.

"The soldiers who work for the Organization use hand held radars made for searching in places where the ship radars can't pierce. More than likely they picked up some small trace of my blood somewhere in the castle dungeons and were able to fill in the rest themselves."

"And why is it," cuts in Balthier, "no one has noticed a bunch of sky ships flying around? Or been able to track them down for that matter. Killing Archadians isn't something many people can do and get away with."

"These people are master at covering their tracks. They're very good at figuring out the quickest and easiest solutions to their problems in record time. Not to mention they have some incredibly adept scientists who create all of this powerful technology that no one has ever seen before. They're always one step ahead of the rest of Ivalice and can therefore outsmart us every time."

"Question," Balthier turns to me, "does this ship have those tracking radars on it?"

"Yeah, it should." I say, confused, "but why-"

"Because," he continues, "if we can punch in a few of those codes, than we would be able to tell if we're being followed. And if that's the case, we can attack them before we're attacked."

"Good idea!" Penelo excitedly exclaims.

"That could work, I just have to find where to punch in the data." Says I as Fran finishes up my hands.

"Leave me to that." Fran says and gets up. She makes her way to the sky ship's main computer and starts work on finding the database.

"What I don't get is," I say leaning back in my chair, massaging my hands, "is why they want Dalmasca and Archadia. I would think they'd be able to reach Larsa without using the Lady Ashe as bait."

"Indeed?" Basch asks me. "So they have another motive I wager." I nod.

"I'm not sure what it is though. But knowing them, it's not good."

"I need a password." Fran looks back at me.

"6783345." I recite. "I just hope they haven't changed it." I hear Fran's fingers typing away at the keyboard.

"They have not changed it." She confirms. "Now I need a code, preferably one of a soldier who might try and track us." I think for a few moments.

"AB-567888. I only hope he still flies."

"Can you give any other blood codes? That way we'll have a wide span of people to look out for." Fran inquires.

"Yes, see here, this button," I get up and show Fran how to enter more DNA codes into the radar. Together, we enter in as many codes as I could remember.

"Now," Penelo asks, coming to stand over our shoulders, "where do we bring up the radar?"

"This button." I push a small blue button at the bottom of the screen. A few seconds pass as a loading menu appears, and then with a flash a map of about one fifty miles around appears. Luckily, there's no red on the screen which would signify an enemy was approaching, but the small radar shows almost every detail on the earth below. From the wild creatures that roam the lands, to the billowing grasses, we can see it all.

"Rather remarkable." Balthier says, looking over at the radar. "We'll need to keep someone watching it. If we can see them, they can see us."

"I will do that." Fran instantly voices, and she takes the seat nearest the radar.

"Hopefully we won't encounter any sky battles." Vaan sighs.

"Let's hope not. This ship does have guns, right?" Balthier asks me.

"Should." My voice is becoming agitated again. "Look, up there above your head. Pull that lever down and a new dash board will appear. That'll switch the ship to battle mode."

"You seem to know a lot about these ships." Basch adds.

"I helped to build and design some of them." I say dully.

"Ever fly?" Vaan presses me. I nod.

"Only a few times."

"You should have said something," Balthier says, "I would have given the controls over to you."

"No, really, I don't like to fly ships."

"Why?" Penelo asks me. Despite myself, I laugh a little.

"Because," I say, "I have a tendency to crash them."

We fly on with nothing appearing on the radar. Truth be told, I'm not sure if that's entirely a good thing. I would have thought that something would have swooped out of the sky to destroy us.

"We're approaching Archades." Balthier announces.

"Finally," Vaan says with relief.

"Is there anyway to contact Larsa or the Archadians from up here?" Penelo asks.

"I don't think so, these ships weren't made for drawing attention." I say shortly and tiredly. "We'll just have to land and hope for the best." Through the large glassy windows I can see the Archadian empire below, it's gentry and finery appealing to the eyes, but the stiffness of everything stirs up a slight resentment in me. I've been to Archades before, and can't stand it's people and how haughty they are, so full of pride. And considering I'm still dressed in a night gown, covered in blood and dirt, and not to mention how bedraggled I appear, my appearance can only bring my rude stares.

We fly low over the Archadian skies, following other sky ships coming in. Flying to meet us are a few imperial ships, small. It only takes a few moments for the vessel to land beside us. There's a crackling as the small sky ship taps into our system with a steel probe, ready for communication.

"What is your business in Archades?" Comes a voice over the speakers

"We bare important new concerning the Lord Larsa and a message he may or may not have received." Balthier says in casual tones, as though he's used to these sorts of interrogations.

"State your names." We do so at their command. I can't help but feel a little nervous. Entering Dalmasca was far easier than entering Archades. I don't like the formality. "Very well," comes a voice once we've done, "we shall send a message to the Empire to confirm that you are who you say you are. Please wait a few moments while we confirm." The probe leaves the ship as they tune back into the empire. Minutes pass and I sit, arms tight about my knees, cheek pressed down on them. I feel ever so slightly impatient. The longer we delay, the closer Ashe and Larsa come to their demise. How could anyone doubt our intentions?

The probe is reinserted into the ship and a crackling sound is heard before the voice of an imperial comes over the speakers. "Please follow our ships. We shall put you in contact with Lord Larsa as soon as we land."

"About time," Vaan sighs as the probe again leaves the ship, and we're off into the skies above the city, following the skip.

Our ship lands beside a large and towering castle, it's high spires and meticulous architect slightly intimidating. Our ship pulls into a docking area where other imperial ships are landed. Imperial guards sprint out to meet our ship, ready to escort us in.

"I just hope Larsa hasn't done anything yet." Penelo says in a worried voice.

"With any hope he hasn't," Basch says, "but if he has, we'll come up with something."

"Let's just hope we can come up with something in a timely fashion." Balthier adds as we the side door of the ship opens. A small guard of imperials stands ready to meet us. The leader nods in greeting.

"Would you be so kind as to follow us inside. Our Lord has come to correctly identify you. If you are not recognizable to him, you will be jailed. Be warned." I shuffle my feet nervously. Again, in the face of formality I am a disgrace to the eyes.

We follow the guards through two large side doors into the city as more ships fly over head. Had the situation not been so dire, I would have stopped to watch and admire.

The inside of the castle is large, a dark and shiny marble, and we are lead into a small entrance hall, primarily used for gathering of sorts. A large staircase stands across from us, and a long hall way leading into the depths of the rest of the castle stands at the top of the stair. I look upward, into the endless ceiling. It's so high up, I can't see the end. I can feel vertigo sinking in as I watch, my knees starting to quiver as my balance slips.

My thoughts are disrupted as the clatter of metal dawned feet comes marching towards us from a side door. A circle of imperials guard a figure standing in the middle, no doubt the boy Lord Larsa.

"Stand down," says the youthful voice of a boy, "it is them." The guard parts. "What brings you here so quickly and abruptly?" He says, approaching us, but his voice is still full of welcome.

"Very unfortunate news," Basch says.

"It must be if you are not with her Lady." Larsa observes. "I would wish to extend proper greetings, but do to the circumstances, that will wait. We shall walk and talk. Follow the guard." Solemnly we follow. "So, what is your business here?" For a boy, his has a remarkable sense of duty.

"Have you received a messenger recently?" Balthier starts.

"Indeed, I have. By the Lady Ashe no doubt. She wishes to meet with me. It is urgent, or at least that is what she wrote. Do you know what it is that she wishes to discuss?"

"Nay, it is not_ she _ who wishes to meet with you." Basch darkly says. "It is another group of people who are after Archadia and Dalmasca. They have managed to infiltrate Dalmasca and have seized the empire." Larsa freezes and turns to slowly face Basch, his eye wide with confusion.

"W-when? How? Why haven't I been informed?"

"A few days ago we entered Dalmasca," Fran starts, "and stumbled upon a plot to take over both empires."

"But who could do such a thing and go unnoticed?"

"They call themselves the Anti-Arcadian Relief Force and Liberation Organization." Balthier picks up. "They're an under the table group who work to destroy Archadia out of revenge for all that has happened in the past, to make a long story short. "

"And how is it you came upon this information?" Larsa questions.

"We have the good fortune," Basch says, "to have an ex-member amongst us." Larsa's gaze instantly falls to me.

"You, I presume." He says and I nod.

"I indeed." I say in a quiet voice. "Please know that these people are very good at getting exactly what they want. There is little we can do to out think our out plan them. We must be very careful in making plans for rescuing our Lady Ashe and Dalmasca. One wrong move could cost her, her life and yours, mi'lord." Larsa and the group are silent for a few moments.

"I will require more information, the entire story, once we reach my meeting chamber. You will be glad to know I have not acted on the summons yet, but was in the process of responding as I received your call."

"That's a relief." Vaan sighs. Larsa looks to Vaan, and I catch something in Larsa's eyes that reminds me of a younger sibling looking to an older one. They must be very good friends.

"I wish to hear about your trip from Dalmasca to Archadia as well. And what you all have been up to. It has been far too long since we've all talked."

"It really has, hasn't it?" Penelo laughs a little and Larsa smiles fondly.

"All in good time, but right now we must discuss the task presented before us." Basch's grim voice speaks. With that, we are lead into Larsa's private chamber to being the discussion.


	17. Chapter 17

Our story was done, finally after an hour or so we managed to cover our entire journey, from where I joined up with Fran and Balthier, to Caspen, Vaan, and Penelo. That lead quick escape out of the city.

We were all seated at a formal looking long table with Larsa seated at the front. I put myself in the back, sitting across from Penelo.

"So," Larsa said slowly once our story was finished, "how should we approach this problem? Obviously, there is not much we can do and avoid conflict."

"Conflict is inevitable with these people." I say, "What we really need to do is strategize."

"Sound to me like you've come up with something." Vaan says from next to Penelo. I nod.

"I have. Since there is no way to cover our tracks, our opponents know where we are and our intentions, I think we shouldn't hide what we're trying to do."

"What do you mean?" Larsa asks me, leaning forward on the table.

"What I mean is, is that we don't deny not knowing what they're up to. We respond to their summons in manner that says we know what they want, and offer a deal. Me thinks they won't be expecting that. They'll expect us to play along rather than take them up front."

"And just how do we go about doing this?" Balthier asks from Larsa's right side. I push down the urge to turn my nose up at his comment, and answer, hating it being him to have asked.

"We send a letter requesting to meet on a middle ground, as in a place in between the two cities so we can avoid the public getting involved. What we do is have three ships come out to meet them, one with Larsa and two with guards. We act as though they are the only ships there and hide the rest. Once Lady Ashe is out and a safe distance away from the enemy ships, we attack using the ships we have hidden."

"It is an interesting plan," Larsa says, "but I'd rather avoid bloodshed at all costs."

"Exactly!" I say. "Don't you see how perfect this is? No one would expect you to take the offensive. We would be taking them surprise. They wouldn't have time to fight back."

"She's right," Fran says knowledgably, "but where would we be in all of this?"

"Can't expect us to sit by while Larsa has all the fun, can you?" Vaan adds with a grin.

"A few of you would be with Larsa, myself included. That way I will show up on their radar and they would expect the rest of you to be with me. The rest who aren't in the main ship are waiting a safe distance away for the cue to attack."

"And who would be with Larsa?" Penelo asks.

"Any one who's not comfortable flying." I say. "That is still to be decided."

"It seems as though you have your heart set on that plan." Larsa says kindly. I can see a pain in his eyes. "I had hoped we would not encounter a war so soon into this new era, but it seems as though it can not be avoided." The young king sighs. "This plan seems the best chance we have in returning our Lady as safely as we can. But there is _still_ no guarantee it will work. What if the enemy brings ships of their own?"

"We have a way of telling if they do." Basch says. "The ship we came in with has a radar that will pick up enemy ships."

"Are you sure they will not be able to see our other ships?" Larsa questions.

"So long as Fidel is with you, they won't be able to see a thing." Penelo answers.

"There is still something that makes me edgy, but all battles put a leader into that position." Larsa grimly speaks. "I think it is the best chance we have though. I will write my response and send it immediately. A day it will be before it reached Dalmasca and a day to receive the response. I shall plan our attack three days from now so that the enemy has little time to come up with something to counter us. Until then, I shall put together a fleet who will come in for the attack, lead by a few of you. So I require that those of you flying meet me on the docks tomorrow for a debriefing."

"Who all will be flying?" Vaan asks. "I can do it." He adds with a helpful shrug.

"And I, naturally." Balthier says.

"As will I." Fran offers. "The rest should stay with Larsa."

"Alright then," Larsa says with a nod, "three fleets."

"And be careful who you tell these plans to," I add, "the enemy has eyes and ears everywhere." Larsa nods.

"I shall listen to your warning and take it to heart, Fidel." He says with a grateful smile. "I thank you all for coming to my aid so quickly. In thanks I shall have rooms and baths warmed. I can see you all need one." We laugh a little at this.

"Shall I go to this, milord?" Says a guard from the door with a bow.

"Indeed, make haste too." The guard nods and hurries from the room. Larsa turns back to us. "While you are in this castle, you are all seen as my honored guests. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to request it."

"Again, you have our thanks." Basch inclines his head gratefully.

"It is the least I could do. I shall have a guard escort you to our guest rooms and some fresh clothes brought up immediately."

"I need to voyage into Archades to get a new gun." Balthier whispers to Fran. Fran leans over and whispers something into Balthier's ear while everyone else breaks into conversation. Vaan gets up along with Penelo to talk to Larsa more easily.

"Hey Larsa," Vaan says, "Penelo and I are going to go and spread the word about this new threat to everyone we can in Archades."

"That way," Penelo adds in, "they won't be so secret anymore."

"A very good idea." Larsa says with a confident nod. "Now, tell me about your pirating trips. How has it been going?" It's so interesting how the mood suddenly changed like that. It's almost impossible not to relax even a little. A new hope has risen amidst the ashes we were all cast into, and it spreads to each of us like air to the lungs.

A knock at the door puts the conversations away, and Larsa calls for the man standing outside to enter.

"The rooms are ready, and the baths are being drawn as we speak." He says.

"Excellent. You may follow the guard to your rooms and wander the castle and city as you please." Larsa stands. "If you have need of me, I shall be in my study."

"Later Larsa." Vaan says.

"Goodbye, and thank you all." Larsa gives his goodbye with a pleasant smile and leaves the room, his escort walking away with him. One guard waits by the doors for us.

"If you'll follow me please," He says, "I shall take you to your rooms." We get up and leave the room.

"Fidel," A hand catches me by the elbow, and I turn to see Balthier behind me, "I want you to accompany me into Archades."

"Why?" I accusatorily say, bristling up instantly at his touch, at his voice, and his commanding tone. Tried hard have I to put away my disgust for him in front of the others, but when he talks in such a familiar way, I instantly fall into revolt.

"You lost my gun didn't you? I want you to help me pick out a new one." He says evenly. I look at him with suspicion and reproach.

"You have eyes don't you? I think you can tell a suitable gun from an unsuitable one." I tug my arm back and start walking again, catching Balthier give Fran a sideways glance. So, she put him up to this? What is she up to?

"I'm afraid I won't be taking no for an answer. Meet me down stairs in one hours time after you are decent. Can't have you walking the Arcadian streets looking like that." He finishes off lightly and strolls ahead of me before I can utter another word. My gaze falls to Fran.

"And what is your roll in all of this?" I ask, though a little calmer and more polite. Fran shakes her head, picking up her pace.

"I do not know what you are talking about." She says, leaving me to walk alone and in my own thoughts.


	18. Chapter 18

I sit by the window of my room sulkily, arms crossed tightly over my chest protectively. There was no way I could go and meet Balthier. No way in hell I was actually going to go down there to see _him_ standing there and waiting around for me. Waiting to preach to me why he did what he did as though _that _might clear up the whole problem.

I chewed my tongue, rolling it over in my mouth and biting down hard on it as I thought. I fidget a little, itching all over to do something. Anything. Break this monotony of just sitting. Sitting meant thinking, feeling, and remembering. I didn't want to think because time has finally caught up with me. At least before I got here I had a distraction, but now my problems were shoved right up under my nose, and the smell was unbearable.

Abruptly, leave the window and walk out of my room, not sure where to go or why I was going. Aimlessly, in a daze almost, I walk on, walking to some staircase, hitting my toe on the wall and swearing.

"Fidel," a voice behind me makes me falter. I swing around and see Penelo, looking shy, like a stranger to a stranger, behind me. "are you off to meet Balthier? He's been down there for a while now."

I shake my head. "No." I awkwardly answer, mouth twitching a little as though about to say more, although, I had no intention of doing so.

"But he...why?" Her voice pries and then shies away, eyes a little disapproving as they watch me. I take a step back onto the top stair, making it clear I had other places to go.

"He, er... he doesn't need my help in finding a gun. I think he'd be better off without me really." I shrug, wondering why she cared so much and why her face grew more serious and motherly by the minute. And it was not the sweet kind of mother either. More like the kind who crosses her arms and tuts in a criticizing way.

"B-but it's impolite to just _leave _him there." Her voice grows more argumentative, like how she gets with Vaan when he misbehaves. "At least you could tell him."

"No..." I pause again, taking one more step back, hand going to the rail, "I don't have time. Other things to do..." My voice trails off.

"Still," she continues, crossing her arms, leaning her weight on one leg, "it's not right to-"

"I'm not going to tell him!" My voice rises to a peek and then dies away. I didn't mean to shout, really, I didn't. I just couldn't control it. I think about saying sorry, but can't. My voice won't form the words. I keep my mouth shut.

Penelo just stands there, cheeks a little pinker, looking a little hurt and very uncomfortable. It was a reminder of how little we knew about each other. We are strangers.

"_I'll_ go tell him then." Penelo tries to sound as though she's offering the favor up, but she doesn't wait to hear my consent. With that, the girl leaves. I watch her walk, swaying back and forth on my feet a little.

A small knot clenches in my stomach. A small knot of regret.

Penelo didn't deserve that. I knew she didn't. She was just trying to be a good friend for the both of us. But it wasn't her place to meddle, I remind myself.

Part of me wants to go after her and apologize, and the other half won't budge an inch. I'm cornered it seems between two 'evils.' The right thing to do, and the wrong. But which is which? Speak to the man who killed my best friend, or simply walk away? How can you tell which really is the evil, and other isn't?

Simply, I turn around and walk down the stairs, giving into the impulse to just leave, be it a right thing, or a wrong thing to do. Get myself out of the situation entirely.

The stairs led to a kitchen, and I weave in and out of the cooks and staff who are all a little miffed that I suddenly barged in.

"Watch it, girl!" One bad tempered lady snaps at me as I bump a plate of chicken almost enough to knock it from her hands.

"Sorry," I glance back over my should at her, looking at her glowering face, and then glance away. I bump into the counter, upsetting a cutting board of bread so bad it fell to the floor. I lurch backward in surprise.

"Hey! Did you do that on purpose you-" Hurriedly, I leave as fast as I can before anything else goes wrong.

I really didn't know where I was going, the front gate was guarded, and the back was for emergency use only. There really was no place to run to, not unless I wanted to go into town, which I didn't. Rather than wait around, standing awkwardly in the middle of the castle grounds while angry kitchen workers wanted blood, I start to walk, more like sprint, to nowhere.

My transgressions carry me close to the front gates where seven guards stood at attention. I put my hands on my knees and breathed hard. Running fast helped to drain some of the inward tension building up. What to do. What to say.

My insides were a small bucket of snakes, squirming with mixed emotion and would come up and bite me in the back of the throat. I wanted to go back to my room. Going out was a mistake. I really didn't want any hume contact as of now. I just wanted to be alone.

The little knot in my stomach grew as a hand fastened around my wrist, shoving some hard object into my palm.

"Wouldn't want you to get sunburned on our outing." It was none other that Balthier himself, shoving a parasol into my hand. I turn, and just stare back at him, unsure of what to say, how to respond. "You certainly kept me waiting," he continued on as though nothing was wrong, "but I'll turn a blind eye." He sounded as though he was doing me a favor. "Come along." He began to walk away.

I looked down at the parasol in my hand, wanting so bad to nail him in the back of the head with it. Kill the superior air he had. I don't. That would be childish. But I do yell.

"Who says I'm coming?!" I shout at his back, clenching the sun umbrella as though my life depended on it, white knuckling it. "You?!"

Balthier turns, and the look on his face makes me shut up. His expression is a little fed up, one eyebrow raised. I then realize he wanted to be here about as much as I did. I feel ever so slightly insulted.

"I'm _not _forcing you." He answers, turns around, and continues walking. I follow.

* * *

The two of us head off into the Archadian day, sun ablaze and hot. Taxi ships fly over head, and many people, shopping and or otherwise, walk down the streets of the high class city. 

I'm only half paying attention to what's going on around me. My head is down, watching the ground pass by under my feet, and I don't bother to apologize to a man I bump into.

"Careful!" He snaps, brushing away at his vest as though I had dirtied it. I shuffle on passed.

"Mind your step." Balthier cautions, taking my elbow in his hand to guide me around a group of people. I jerk it back.

"I can find my way." I glower, speaking through gritted teeth, cringing at his touch. I yearn to hiss _murderer _at him. That was what he was. I didn't want his bloodied hands touching me.

Balthier stops walking and looks at me, his mouth a thin line. I could tell he was getting frustrated with my attitude.

"Is this how it's going to be the entire way?" He flat out asks me, folding his arms. Again, I felt like a child being reprimanded by a parent.

"How do you want it to be?" I smirk a little. Did he expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows? Was he that thick? I didn't try to hide my impoliteness at all.

Balthier sighs heavily. "Well then, why don't we just cut to the chase. Alright with you am I right to suspect?"

I nod and walk over to a bench by a fountain, sitting down. Balthier sits beside me. We don't look at each other. There was a long silence which was only broken by the sound of water hitting water behind us. I can tell he's thinking. His eyes are vacant as though off in some far away place. For all I care, he can stay in his dreamland.

Finally, he speaks because I wasn't about to.

"When my late father, Cidolfus Bunansa, fell into what I thought was madness for the nethicite, I couldn't take it. Truth be told, I felt as though I would go mad at watching him fall." He begins. I look at him, wondering what he was blathering on about. "But, I really didn't want to leave. I hoped my father would come around eventually, become the sane old man I learned to trust and follow." He paused and sighed again, almost as though explaining his life was costing him something personal in telling me.

"Don't tell me if it bugs you that much." I coolly say before he can continue. .

"I have to. You'll understand why soon enough." He briskly answers, running a hand through his hair. I sink down low into my seat, arms crossed and give one nod.

"Suit yourself."

Balthier takes a moment before continuing.

"A young woman," he began again, "made me leave. Her name was Dyre and she was born from one of the older judges. I met her and my views changed. She knew I was suffering and pressed me to run away. So I did as she instructed and left.

"It goes without saying that I came to care for the young woman, as did she for me. I left her with a promise that she would find me out there… someday soon. I waited for her, flying the skies. I was naive to think it could work out. At 16 I could barely take care of myself, let alone her." As I listened, his voice bacame more distant, as though it wasn't me who he was talking to. "She died in the journey to find me. Her ship was discovered in the Nam-Yensa Sandsea, shot down. They never knew who did it. Foolish girl, I was on the other side of the world all along." I look at his expression. His face was a little paler, muscles in his neck strained, eyes hazy. There was a pain in his face, a regret, that made me, for a moment, recognize that there was humanity in him. He says nothing more as though waiting for me to say something. I oblige.

"Why are you telling me this?" I don't understand him and don't pretend to.

"Because," he says, speaking to me now, "how else was I to get you to listen to me? How else could I show you that I am not a mindless killer? I have loved and lost, as have you, and I would hope you could recognize that."

"No," my eyes dart to his, and I shake my head stubbornly, "we aren't the same. We really aren't, so don't put me on that level." I say all of this very fast.

"What I don't understand," he disregards my last outburst, only making me angrier, "is why you refuse to see that. Are you afraid?"

"Afraid?" I snicker. "Of what? You? You going to shoot me too?" Balthier looks away.

"Don't know why I bother." He stares out ahead of him, eyes blazing with frustration. "I give up." He mutters.

We lapse into silence.

What did he mean by afraid? How could I be afraid? What was there worth fearing? I slip him a contemptuous glance. What could he do to make me scared?

"_How _am I afraid?" I send a small pebble skittering across the ground as I kick it hard.

"You're afraid of the truth." He answers me as though it were obvious.

"What truth?" I roll my eyes.

"You can answer that on your own." He stands up. "I won't answer it for you." I don't watch him walk away. Don't bother watching him disappear into the crowd.

Truth...

I stand as well.

I walked away from the bench, suddenly pensive. Afraid of...the truth?... I chew my bottom lip, realizing that I wasn't walking that fast and people were getting frustrated. Somebody bumps my shoulder; I stagger a little, but don't particularly care.

Truth...

Something inside clicked at that moment.

I knew what I was afraid of. I was afraid that what Balthier did was the right thing, killing Caspen I mean. Acknowledging that would be acknowledging that Caspen had tried to kill me, that he wasn't my friend. My heart knew the answer, but I couldn't accept it. I couldn't let him go.

By now, Balthier was very much gone, and I felt very much alone. And something inside began to feel guilty and ashamed.

Balthier was right, and I was too stubborn to accept it.


	19. Chapter 19

_Hey everybody! This is Intwilight with an important reminder: **Please** check my profile every so often. I have details regarding my summer vacation and posting up chapters and what not. Thanks!!_

* * *

"Here," Says Larsa on the second day of our arrival during dinner, "it's the response I got from your Organization." He pushes the letter foreword for us all to crane over. "The date is fixed. We meet at noon tomorrow." 

"I guess it's set then." Penelo's voice, serious and strained, answers to this. "It just makes everything so much more real." She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, glancing around, eyes never focusing on any one face.

"Indeed it does." Basch says weakly, shoulders slumped slightly. "Honestly, I had hoped we were going to receive a letter back saying this was a hoax, but I knew that could not be true." He wipes sweat from his brow, eyes blinking a few times as if to swat away the perspiration that wasn't there.

"At least we have our plan." Balthier said while polishing his new gun. The only response to this is silence. We can't all but feel somewhat doubtful and nervous about the approaching day.

"Will their leader be there?" Larsa asks me. I shake my head.

"She doesn't leave the base unless it's a real emergency." The corns of my mouth twitch, and slowly I bring my legs up to meet my chest as the pounding in my chest picks up tempo.

"She?" Vaan says, confused, breaking the monotonous worry with his slight sexism. "I expected it to be a guy."

"No, it's a woman. But that hardly matters... the group follows her doubtlessly all the same. Some even consider her more of a man at heart than an actual man could ever be."

"Can you tell us anything about her? A name? Perhaps there is something we could pull from this and get inside their minds." Basch suggests, eyes lighting up with the idea.

"No amount of knowledge about her could allow you entrance into her mind... or the Organization's. It is a place no hume can enter." My voice dies away as I begin to think about my old leader, the woman whom I had considered a mother and a father. "She calls herself Calypso, but that is not her real name. I never knew her birth name, only that she dismissed it after the Imperial army destroyed her village.

"Calypso cut every tie she could with her past, even to the point where she lied about her real age..." I paused for breath, finding it strangely easy to talk of all this. Something inside of me felt numb and dumbed down to the point where I almost was walking in a dream like state. I suppose it was a sort of act of self-preservation, protecting the dignities and beliefs I had left. It felt almost like cowardice...

"I joined on early enough to see how she was before such radical changes, all but the name that is, and was one of the few to learn her past. Apparently she came from a small village by the sea, one of Dalmascan ownership. Her mother was from the city of Rabanastre, while her father from Archades. Her father said that he belonged to the empire and if her mother would not join him, she was as good as dead to him. Calypso was seven at the time when her father left to join the Imperial army. A year later the Imperials took the town, one of the first to fall pray to the fires of war.

"Everyone died, her mother and siblings including. She was the only to have lived, finding refuge in a hallowed out area in a tree to escape the massacre. From there she found herself at the mercy at the empire. Calypso wouldn't tell anything more of her past after that, but whatever it was made her heart become set on destroying the empire which had cost her more than she could pay. Her words brought many people to her. The passion in which she spoke was captivating and awe inspiring. Those who heard her words instantly fell in love with the woman, and followed her to death..." A small smirk plucks the corners of my lips as I remember, from a life long ago, how I had once been that blind. I had almost died for this woman.

"Her story makes me sad." Fran comments at the end. "So many have seen terrible things in the past. It is easy to see how people would follow so willingly." Her voice fades off darkly, a scowl starting to form. "It is a weakness we all share..."

"My only wish," Larsa says distantly, "is to unite Ivalice and heal the wounds of the past. Unfortunately, there are many hearts still broken and lives shattered, and I can do little to make everything as it once was. Restore lives to the dead, rebuild those towns and villages from the ashes to how they once were... all seem impossible."

"You're doing the best you can, Larsa." Vaan says. "No one can say anything bad about you. You're a good king."

"I thank you for your kindness, Vaan, but that does not stop people from hating the empire. Hating me. Only time and our efforts to restore a broken kingdom can heal this world." Larsa folds his hands in front of him, staring down at his fingers.

"Hopefully, once this is over with and we have Ashe back, people will appreciate the empire more." Penelo hopefully states. "Won't Dalmasca and Rosaria be grateful that the Lady Ashe is safe?"

"One can only hope so, Penelo." Larsa sighs, a very faint and tired smile on his lips. "But the night grows late, and tomorrow brings an important day. I suggest we all go to bed and pray for a safe journey."

"My thoughts exactly." Balthier says, getting up, pushing in his chair which squeals.

"Aye, I am ready to dream." Fran stands as well.

"I just pray to find peace of mind tonight." Basch sighs, shoulders falling a little more from their once high place.

"Good night my friends. I hope tomorrow brings us promise." Larsa bids us goodnight, and we leave the dining hall, one by troubled one.

* * *

My knees were drawn tighter to my chest than I had ever drawn them up before, fingers nervously kneading away at the bare skin. Larsa had kindly given me shorts a light weight shirt to wear rather than a dress. I look down at the olive green garment on my legs and heave a sigh which expresses all my fears. I reflect on the morning as I sit in my seat on our sky ship. _This would be a day I would never forget._

We woke up bright and early, the morning catching me in the face, shimmering but unwelcome still. How I had hoped to just drift back to sleep, but I couldn't. New clothes were laid out for me, shorts with a chain belt for holding daggers, my preferred weapons, and a gray shirt with sleeves only coming a forth of the way down my arms. After bathing and dressing, I ate breakfast with the rest of the group. Eating was done quickly and in silence. Larsa then led everyone to the fleet entrance hall for a pep talk and rerun of the plan.

"This is our one chance men," he had said to us, "I have faith in each and every one of you. Fly hard, and know that your king is proud." Everyone, a few hundred of us, broke into applause at the end of his speech, heartened but still somber. War of any sort, battle of any sort, and confrontation of any sort was ill thought of after everything that had previously happened. To be plunged into war so early on was devastating to the young king, and I truly pitied the boy.

The steady drum beat of metal feet on the ship docks echoed into the sky. We held flags high above our heads to spur morale. Hearts were lightening and confidence began to pour from the people. It is in times like these, just before a battle, you see people as people, not soldiers. Men and women with families and stories, lives and emotions. These people with many facets one can only fathom, and they all march as one unit, chins and heads high, eyes sparkling with determination. The air is so thick with emotion, and the humanity so strong that it swayed me to shed a few tears. I wipe them as fast as I can.

My eyes catch sight of the three fleet leaders near by: Balthier, Fran, and Vaan. My feet carried my body to them.

"Best of luck to each of you." I said them, never actually meeting Balthier's all knowing and clever gaze.

"And you." Fran said with a nod, her eyes steely before the battle.

"See you on the other side." Vaan grins. "Well, good luck everyone! And Fidel, take care of Penelo for me?" Vaan asks me, he nudges me in the ribs. I'm a little surprised he picked me to watch after her, not Basch.

"Y-yes!" I stammered, and then tried to pluck up a smile. "I will." Vaan grinned and me, clapped my shoulder with a nod, and left to his ship, giving a hearty _whoop _as he walked off.

"Fly well, young Fidel." Fran gave her goodbye, and walked to her ship. Last to leave was Balthier to my dismay. However, I was not so rude as to just leave. He watched me a good long while almost as though expecting em to say something. I sucked in a large breath of air, mind whirring away.

"Hey Balthier..." I mutter, staring down at my feet, a small sinking feeling making a home in my heart.

"Yes?" he says back, stiffening slightly, voice becoming a little frosty.

"I think..." I didn't dare catch his gaze... just hung my head, staring avidly at my feet. "I think maybe..maybe...you might be right." I could barely force those words out. I made my fists into balls. "I don't exactly know what that is, so I can't forgive you, but I'm getting there."

"You'll find it when you're ready." He said briskly, but it was with a gentler undertone. I quickly nodded and glanced over one shoulder. Time to go...

"Sure..." I muttered, turned, and walked off, half relieved to have said something in the direction of amendment, and half hating myself for saying anything at all, especially when I was still so full of doubt.

* * *

I am brought back into a sharp reality as the captain of the ship announces that the enemy is within sight. The place of meeting is in the Paramina Rift near Mt. Bur-Omisace, well away from any people. Our ships, three of them, are readying for landing. The enemy has only two ships, but they are larger than ours. I look to Penelo who sits next to me. Sweat has broken out over her forehead, and she's biting away at her bottom lip. Basch sits grimly next to her, face set and brow furrowed.

"We're coming in for landing, careful now." Looking down through the windows, I can see small figures standing below us, only a few. "Sire, wait until we see the Lady Ashe before leaving the safety of the ship."

"I shall." Says Larsa with a nod.

"Any signs of danger and leave immediately. We cannot endanger the king anymore than necessary."

"I do not wish to abandon my men." Larsa answers forcefully.

"I am afraid that if the time calls for it, you will have to leave sire. You will not fall to these people so easily." Larsa shakes his head.

"It will be seen as cowardice." Larsa presses on.

"You aren't a coward." Penelo comforts. "No one wants to see you dead."

"Nay," Says Basch, "do as he says Lord Larsa."

"Very well," Larsa reluctantly responds, "but only in most dire of circumstances."

"Be ready to kill those who guard Ashe as well." I say. "We will most likely have to take her by force."

"Understood," Basch says.

"There are ships ready to cover us when it comes to do that." Larsa adds. "So worry not." The ship comes to a landing before our opponent. From outside, halfway between the two ships stands the Lady Ashe along with a few members of the Anti-Arcadian Relief Force and Liberation Organization.

"What about you?" Penelo says, sounding concerned. I grin and shake my head.

"I'll be fine. Just worry about Ashe and yourself." Penelo nods, but still looks worried.

"Remember," Larsa says to Basch as we stand to leave, "wait until the Lady is a safe distance away from the enemy ships before giving the signal."

"Do not worry, I have it committed to memory." Basch gives a comforting smile to the distressed king. We leave the ship through a side door which lifted up above our heads. The two ships we had present floated protectively over our heads, guarding our decent down to the figures in the distance. Other imperials guarded us as well, about forty, circling his majesty in a tight ring, that way if there was gun fire, it would be harder to hit Larsa. My hand nervously twitches at my belt, laden with two daggers, ten inches long each and tipped with deadly acid that burned on contact, courtesy of Larsa's smith.

The frozen earth was laden with a fresh fall of snow, and a wind blew bitter and cold on our necks. My hair whips about my face, and I squint my eyes against the wind, feeling myself shiver in the bitter cold. A frozen stream bed lies to my right, cutting through the ground.

"I would not tread on that." Basch says, looking to where my gaze falls. "It is far from sturdy."

"No kidding," I whisper, voice rising in a misty white cloud above my head. The dark figures in the distance approach, their forms becoming clearer. Amongst them, dressed in her a wispy white dress, as white as the fresh snow, was the Lady Ashe, her face becoming clearer and grimmer looking by the moment.

"Well met." Says one of the escorts, a woman by the name of Irah, "So, what are the terms you wish to speak of?" The woman's bobbed blond hair and snake like ice blue eyes are visible, even from a distance. A man stands next to her, gun over one shoulder, and I do not recognize him. His hair is black and sticks up in many directions, his face pointed and viper like. A few others stand around, dawning the uniform of the guards, a navy blue uniform, pressed with a badge over the heart which pledges loyalty to their leader. I catch sight of Ashe's face, pale and dark, her eyes sunken into their sockets. There was something almost inhume about her the more I watched. Something was not right here.

"A king for a queen?" Says the man who stands by Irah. "Sounds like a deal to me."

"We have no intention of giving you the King Larsa." An imperial growls.

"Oh ho?" Irah puts her hands on her hips and laughs. "Never said that in the letter."

"Well, I guess it would mean we're at an impasse." The man says lightly, brushing away a snow flake from his gun.

"If that's the case, "Laughs the woman, "why don't we take both?" The man cocks his gun and Basch moves in front of Larsa, giving the cue for the other ships to fly in. From above comes the sound of ships rising from the their hiding places, from both sides. From the front, our ships begin to rain fire down upon the approaching sky ships coming. Suddenly the air is a maze of bullets. And it's in the confusion that the small ground battle began. No one could say who took the first swing, but soon a skirmish had broken out. Larsa drew the sword at his waist.

"Mi'lord," Basch says to him, "go back to the ship, I will cover you." Basch swings his mighty mace at an attacking guard, blocking the man's attack. I slip a dagger from my waist and dive it into the man's throat, aiding Basch.

"I can fight!" Larsa forcibly snaps.

"No," I say, "it is too dangerous here. We will get the Lady. You worry about getting out of here."

"Go, Larsa!" Penelo nods to him. "We got this!" Larsa looks around at the battle and the rain of bullets from above, the crashing of fallen ships, cascading to the ground in flames, and the cries of dying soldiers.

"Alright, but promise me you will bring our Lady and yourselves back."

"Will do. Let's go." I say quickly to Penelo. Although there was still a little tension between us from our last big meeting a few days before, we both knew that getting Ashe back was a little more important than any problems we were having.

We move through the battle, weapons cutting down all who approach, my daggers finding their way into armor and piercing into flesh with an agonizing touch. Penelo's long sword expertly parried blows and counters, maiming and killing. Our eyes skim the crowd for Ashe amidst the battle. We find her, being dragged away by the woman. The other man was no where in sight, but my guess was that he was after Larsa and Basch.

"This way," I point to Ashe. Penelo nods, wiping a bit of blood from her cheek. The two of us dodge, duck, and parry the rain of blows around us as we run for Ashe, swerving with the battle to avoid a ship spiraling down to earth.

"I sure hope Vaan is okay," Penelo says, looking over her shoulder at the flaming ship.

"I'm sure he's thinking the same thing about you." I look back at her and say. She smiles, a little embarrassed.

"We're close!" Penelo's attention falls back the woman leading Ashe back to their ship.

"I've got the woman, I know how she fights. Get Ashe and go." I say to Penelo as we come close to striking distance. Penelo doesn't answer, she barely has time to as the woman notices us. A cocky grin spreads Irah's face. Both daggers in hand, I jump in front of Ashe and leap in for a fast attack to the throat, trying to get as much distance between her and Ashe as possible.

"Clever, clever girl. No waiting around, eh?" Hisses the woman as she blocks my attack with her sword. The sound of our colliding weapons echoes around the small area in which we fight, bouncing from frozen river, to mountain side. My arms ache as her large sword hits mine, obviously the better of the weapons.

Penelo follows up with a fast attack at the woman's side. She barely gets in enough time to block Penelo's attack, and I take that chance to slash away at an exposed arm, digging the blade in as deep as I can into the flesh. The woman gasps as the blade burns and tears. I try another attack, but she blocks this time and pushes me back. My feet skid on the snowy wet and ice covered ground, nearly making me loose my balance as I propel backwards a few yards.

"Penelo," I hiss to her, "go!"

"But what about you?"

"Never mind that! Just go. I'll catch up." I toss an acid blade to Ashe who catches it. The princess stares feebly down at the blade as though not really seeing it, or caring. Her face had lost expression.

"Think I'll let you get away?" Irah snickers. I sweep in for another attack, catching her off guard. The woman stumbles backwards a few feet, arm throbbing from pain of the acid I had just inflicted on her.

"Good luck." Penelo says. She tugs on Ashe's arm, and Ashe wordlessly follows, almost robot like.

"She'll never make it alive." The woman whispers. "The guards have orders to kill on sight."

"You forget," I dodge Irah's long bladed attack, feet able to move back and forth like water with the lightness of my weapon, "that our side has orders too." My dagger slips through Irah's defenses to slip another painful slash, this time to her leg. The woman's body tenses, and her leg shakes under the attack. I duck out to come in from the back and stab, but she guesses at my moves and catches me by surprise. Her sword swings from an angle, and slashes my side. I stagger over to my right, and then to the left, body moving backwards in the snow, free hand going to the open wound which bleeds into the white snow around. She attacks again, sending me stumbling backwards, just narrowly missing her follow up attack. I can feel the wet and warm ooze falling from underneath my fingers, splattering the ground. The lady takes another swing and this time it digs into my shoulder. I suck air in through my teeth, swearing at my carelessness. Irah laughs at the pleasure of my pain, but I can tell that the acid in both wounds is getting to her. Her balance and skill is diminishing.

"Don't run away now," she says with a playful grin, "and you'll bleed to death." Indeed, the cut in my side was deep, but I had to keep going. I raise my dagger, face set for battle. The woman raises her sword in her good arm. From nowhere, a large bullet from the sky dives down from the heavens to crash behind us.

Like glass shattering into oblivion, the ice covering the frozen riverbed explodes, sending icy shards in every direction. The ground under my feet groans and I hear a deafening crack. It was then that I realized that I was standing on the frozen river. I feel the ground beneath me start to crumble, and I begin to loose my balance. I stagger backwards, trying to frantically find solid ground. My foot slips on a chunk of ice, and the dagger flies from my hand as I slip.

"Ha!" Shouts the woman as my dagger sinks away into the icy water with a _ sploosh _. I continue to stumble backwards, and my opponent raises her sword to deliver a final and lethal blow. With a step, her foot lands on the ice, bare ice. I watch as her foot slips suddenly, the weight of the sword in her hand too much for her body to handle and deal with the broken ice at the same. Her eyes grew wide as she realized what was happening, face growing whiter than the snow. There comes a loud splash as the sword falls out of her hand, slipping away to rest at the bottom of the river. Irah flails backwards, unable to regain her footing. In horror, I witness the woman shriek in terror as she falls beneath the ice which drifts over to block her entry way, leaving her trapped in the frozen river.

Even though she was my enemy, I can't help but feel disturbed and shaken as I watch the ice where she had fallen through. No sound nor sight can be detected from where Irah had fallen, just nothing but ice and snow. It was as if the woman had never been there at all.

Quickly, I backup, forgetting where it was that I stood. Instantly, at my hasty movements, I slip backwards and am unable to regain my balance. I prepare myself for the harsh winter water, every muscle tensing up, ready to fight my way back up. The water never comes, instead, I fall sprawled on my back in the snow, finally back on proper land.

My breathing is heavy and labored as I lie, face up, in the frozen rain. I watch as my breath spirals into the air above my head, and my eyes flicker. The gash in my side has been bleeding severely this entire time, and I look to see the long river of red water I'm leaving behind me. A moan escapes my lips as the wounds in my side and shoulder throb painfully. I clasp my wounded side harder with my right hand and push myself up with my left. Staggering drunkenly, I try to enter the battle, but can't find my way.

'N-no!' I think desperately, "I can't pass out now. I h-have to get back to the others." But my body can take no more, and I heavily slump into the white snow, lying there as though newly dead while the wind and snow blow about in the rain of blood.


	20. Chapter 20

'Wake up,' My numb mind says urgently from some chasm. The swirling blackness cocoons me in an envelope, some sort of a heavy force pushing down on my chest. Still in a dream like state, I try and move an arm, but feel only dead weight. Terror rises in me as I try to twitch a finger even a little but can't. My panic stricken mind frantically races around as I try to find the cause of my immobilized state. Was I dead and entombed? Had I bled to death out there in the snow? Was I now a spirit who was to be forever trapped in the dark? It was not a pleasant thought at all.

'Wake now,' Says the voice again in my ear, a quiet whisper. How can I wake up when I can't move or see? Wherever I am, it is unbelievably cold and every fiber attached to my bones is shaking and shivering. None more so than a spot on my back. I can feel the cold starting there, condensed and almost painful. The pain and cold seems to grow more intense, rising to a its peek slowly and steadily. Was this hell? This pain which grew in my back, seeping through bone and marrow to pierce my heart, was this hell?

'Wake,' The coldness tightens around my heart like a snake on a mouse, gripping it to the point where I thought my breast might burst for pain. I feel myself begin to stir, body responding to the pain, slipping away from my mind which served as no protection to the sharp reality outside. My mind wakes with a cry.

I scream, sitting upright, screaming for the chokingly firm grip on my heart. I wake and it dies, but I still feel the aching and I give heavy breaths, feeling as though I might vomit up my heart.

I hunch over, clutching my chest, pupils dilated. I realize then that I can't see my body, or anything else for that matter. I'm in total darkness. The only thing I know in this darkness is what I sit upon, something hard and steely. With fumbling fingers, I touch the gash at my side and feel only a stitched wound.

"You heard my call, like always." Says a soft and almost sad voice to my right. I jump and turn my blind eyes to the speaker. I hear soft laughter coming from the person. "You are not blind, my Fidelynn. There is no light here."

"Calypso?" I murmur with confusion into the darkness. I hear the soft laughter again.

"So my voice can still be heard by your ears? Then why haven't you heard my call for you before now, my little Fidel?" Her voice is just the way I remembered it, like a mother's voice, but so full of despair.

"Where am I?" I snap, feeling my heart beat pounding in my chest. I claw at my breast a bit, trying to find the source of the pain, be it dagger or sword, and find nothing.

"Tone," She says, "that is no way to speak to your leader, Fidel." I hear her come to sit next to me on whatever it was I had been lying on, her blind eyes knowing exactly where she was going, for it was always dark in her world. "You are trapped in our city beneath the waves, safely tucked away from the world while we continue our plans." She stretches out a hand and caresses my cheek a little. I flinch away from her.

"Why didn't you just kill me? What did you do to me? To them?" I shout. My voice carries around the chamber, spitting through gritted teeth.

"Kill you?" She says, scoffing my words. "You think I would take your life? Kill you when you had been so valuable to me in the past? No, Fidel, I want to give you another chance." I pull my legs up to my chest, trying to get away from her, and feel my naked flesh. 'Where are my clothes?' I think, horrified.

"Join you again?" I say in a disbelieving voice, unable to believe that I'd be accepted back after all that I had put them through. "You're crazy if you think I'd be your lap dog again."

"Is this about power then? Is that why you left?"

"No! I left because I don't agree with killing _innocent _people!" My eyes slowly are adjusting to the darkness so I can see the dark outline of the woman. Her hands are folded over crossed legs, and her hair tumbles to the cold slab I'm on. Besides that, I can make out nothing more.

"So, you won't be joining me again?" Calypso sighs, slowly standing up so she can pace back and forth. "That is why I've made it so you can't leave again, or speak another word that crosses your mind." Her words come out slow, careful, steady, and she paused a moment, knowing she wasn't making much sense to me.

"What are you talking about?" I can feel dread starting to rise from my feet to my heart.

"You sit here before me, naked and stripped of your identity. If it hadn't been for my soldiers who had saved you from bleeding to death, you would have died out there. I gave you your life back, and in exchange I wanted your service again. Simple, no?"

"What did you do to me?" My voice quavers in the air, praying for some miracle. Praying I was salvageable. Her cold and slightly trembling hand fastens around my shoulder, rubbing it softly as though to bring some sort of comfort. I smack her hand away.

"While you were away, the Organization has made many incredible discoveries. Discoveries worthy of a god. Power, creation, and divinity-a divine army." Her voice floats off like a dream, hanging in the air like a sick song. "But those discoveries come at a terrible price. The body and soul." I shiver, goose bumps spreading over my bare skin, but not from cold. "Born these discoveries are from Nethicite and Magicite and Mist, the liquid forms that is. That is how we all came to be, how the gods created us, monsters and other freewill beings alike. Freewill monsters born from Nethicite, monsters born from Magicite. We are all children of the Nethicite and Magicite. But what happens when we take those elements the gods made us with and change them? Mix them? Change all the living creatures born from this power? We experimented and found out exactly what.

"With those two entities we discovered powers beyond Ivalice itself. With your help, we're testing out that power, for you see, when creatures are created from those powers, raw and unlike anything we have yet seen from on this planet, they are weak and half dead. But when a host is given, these creatures become more powerful than anything found on this planet. Super creatures they are, but they need something to think for them, a master. Give them orders to listen to. Freewill and instinct combined."

"What do you mean?" I say through my teeth. I hear her laugh softly and watch the outline of her head shake a little.

"You are no hume child any more, Fidel, but a hybrid of my creation. Through the power of Nethicite and Magicite and all the other powers on this planet, we have fused you with another. You are now two creatures in one and soon to be one of the strongest forces on the planet. At least until more are born that is."

"What?!" I scream, and Calypso laughs, this time unfriendly and cold, demonic.

"Child, you will die while another takes on your body, transforming into your half mimic half hume self. You shall forever be part of the Organization who bred you to kill and serve, forever listening to my command."

"T-that's not true!" I say, tightly clamping my hands over my ears. "I can't hear you!"

"You can, in your heart." I feel the cold stabbing pain grow and again in my chest and I shriek out, feeling as though my heart may burst. It's like a knife made of ice tearing into the sides of my heart, pulling it apart as the creature inside me grows.

"I control you. Once you have fully mutated, in about eight days, you will no longer be able to think as Fidel, just a creature who obeys me. The creature starts in the back, and spreads along your bones and muscles, finally coming to tap itself into the back of your brain by cutting into the skull. The process is painful, and if you try to remove it, there is a high chance you will die. But be thankful it was not a Wyrm we put into you. That transformation is longer and more gruesome as others have found out." I sit in a numb silence, unable to believe the words I hear. Lost? How can I be lost? How can I have lost? After all of this? Having another creature inside me is beyond my comprehension, my mind's ability to understand. But somewhere, somewhere far away inside of me, I can feel another heart beat. Another consciousness breathing and growing. "And fear not for those coming after you in this process," she continues, "from your results we can hopefully find a way to make this easier for our new warriors. Rest easy in knowing that those in Archades will not suffer for long."

"W-what?!" I whisper fearfully after her. There is a pause, her footsteps stopping.

"The King is captured and soon to suffer your fate, and Archades has fallen. Many of those who attacked us have been captured and are to either die or become hybrids. That depends on how strong the person is and how much Nethicite we can use at once. Dangerous things the Nethicite are." I hear a door swing wide. "Stay put, a guard will be by to bring you to a cell where you will complete the transformation." The door closes behind her, and I sit, still in the darkness, still unable to see. Still shivering.

* * *

I hear the door open, but see nothing because even the halls here are cast into total blackness. I've heard of this place, but never been here. Because Calypso is blind, she wanted a place in the city, under the sea and sand, where everything is dark, and those who dwell there, blind or not, live in her darkness. The person before me must be one of those servants, his or her eyes accustomed to the dark after years of never seeing light.

"Here," says the voice of a man to me, "your clothes. Now that the surgery is done we can't have you naked." I'm hit with the shorts and shirt Larsa gave me, I can feel the chain belt of the shorts and the strings that go up the front of the shirt. Slowly, and careful not to hit anything, I pull on my shorts and then my shirt. I let out a gasp of pain and shock as the cloth touches the area where my second half lies growing in my back. The guard snickers from the door way. "Hurts, don't it? They don't like hume clothes." I tie up my boots, still flinching and wincing from the pain, stabbing and giving out sudden bursts of agitated pain when ever it felt like it, the pain feeling like some sort of infected sore on my back. It was like a really bad ear or strep-throat infection, and the shirt stuck to it, only causing the creature to hurt me more.

I tried hard not to scream out again, not wanting to give the guard any more satisfaction in seeing me in agony. My body moves its way to him, although most definitely reluctant to move with this thing in it. The man seems disappointed I didn't cry more when I reach him, his voice put out.

"Follow me." He says and leads me down the dark hallway. My boots echo off the metal walls and floor. Dark silhouettes of doors line the walls, standing like military men, formal and stiff. I can see nothing else in this hall, and there came no sound of waves on the walls, although I hadn't expected to hear anything. The city is protected by a large bubble at the bottom of a sea trench. Scientists had balanced out the pressure down here through their technology and so life was possible. The water was pumped from the city and buildings were created. Most of which were military bases for training the people and for making plans. Calypso's blind home was built beneath the sand, as most of the dwellings were made, but Calypso's was more of a base. There wasn't anything homely about it. It was just a maze of cold metal walls, official looking and void of anything one would consider homely.

My guard leads me up a flight of dark stairs to which looks as though it has no end. It just seems to rise up in the darkness, bits of it revealing itself as the darkness shows me more. Here, I am at the mercy of the darkness and shadow, all lead by that one woman. Whatever she commands is followed out with without question. I wouldn't be surprised if the darkness attacked me had she ordered it to.

The darkness peels away and slowly the shape of a door becomes visible somewhere above me.

"Through that door is the containment center for the hybrids, and the hybrid to be. I will take you to your cell where the transformation will be completed, and then you shall be sent into the world as a new and more obedient child of the gods."

"And by gods, you mean yourselves." I say, voice as dark and twisted as the night that surrounds me. The man chuckles.

"Exactly," I hear the door swing open as his hand touches it. The gears inside the door whirl and click as it registers his hand and finger prints.

"Accepted," says the voice belonging to the door. It pulls away from the doorway, sinking back into the wall so we could walk through. This room, unlike what I've seen so far, has light. But not normal light, not electric light. From above my head come glass windows, skylights cutting up through the sand and into the dark blue world above. On the other side of the skylight is water, ocean water, the sun light barely visible in the dark sea trench, somehow magnified to reach this far down. Another bit of engineering genius. Because there's water on the other side, we must be outside of the city. I look around my new eight day home, taking in the barred cells that look like a prison. Metal walls divide the cells up so it's inhabitance can't interact. The cells are on either side of the long hallway, each with skylights into the water world. I listen as the man touches the bars, and they respond to his touch by swinging open, metal scrapping unpleasantly along the ground. His firm hand grabs my shoulder and pushes me into the cell, which closes.

"I'll be back later. We've got a few more people being brought in here. Some hybrids, others not, so you should have company in your last few days of a conscious hume." I watch him walk away from my cell and the closing of the sliding door follows his exit. I suppose I am the only one in here. I turn my attention to the bed which is opposite me, made of a hole in the wall, like a nest almost. I walk to it and peer in, a hand tentatively reaching out to touch the bed. I feel a blanket, woolen but warm, under my hand. Beneath the blanket lies metal, most uncomfortable for sleeping on, but oh well. I duck my head and climb into the small nest in the wall. I have to hunch over because the ceiling is so small, but I am given some privacy at least.

Do to the fact that it had slipped from my mind, the creature in my back sends me another long and cold stab of pain. A scream, against my will, escapes my lips as I am caught off guard. My body falls over and my breathing comes pained and heavy as the pain tapers into a small throb. My body shakes violently, tense and sweaty.

"I hear you, I hear you." I mutter through gritted teeth. Another long burst of pain follows, and I press my face into the blankets, trying to smother myself in them and block out the pain, but it doesn't work. My jaw is clamped down, face scrunched up tightly, eyes shut. My head and body ache from the agony, and I feel drained and tired. Slowly, I put my hands behind my back and I tear the back of my shirt, right to the shoulder blade. Instantly, the pain dies away as the creature's wish is fulfilled. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I lie, face down in my pillow, careful not to let anything touch the mimic in my back. My body slowly pounds in miserable defeat to the beat of my heart, begging to be sent back to sleep. I feel hot all over, sweaty, out of breath, and as though I'm about to puke. My hands quiver uncontrollably by my sides, and the creature, for fun it seems, pains me again. I'm left moaning and sobbing in pain, free to express my misery with no one to see. The tears soak my pillow and dribble down into my mouth and hair. Eight days of this? Eight days of this agony, only getting worse as the creature grows? I shiver in fear at the thought.

At last, long and wonderful last, my mind shuts itself off, and I give into the blackness of my own world.


	21. Chapter 21

My dreams are disturbed by a painful shock through my back. The pain cuts through reality and make-believe, sending my little world spiraling downward into the harsh world I sleep in. I wake to find myself thrashing about in my small metal bed, blanket and sheet flung out of the small alcove. I'm not sure what made it angry, but considering how much pain I'm in, I'd say I rolled over onto it. Whatever the case, I'm left whimpering and stifling cries and sobs as the pain mounts before ebbing away. It's only been a few hours since I was dragged into my cell, but already I can feel the legs of the Mimic growing. It's not big at all, but the feeling around the small bump was like something, splinter like, starting to dig into my bones and muscle.

I feverishly wipe away my tears and quell my whimpers and screams as I hear the door from the end of the hall open. Hastily, I clamber out of my bed and pile the bed clothes back on before anyone can see. I walk to the bars of my cell and peer through them as best as I can. At the end of the hall I can see a few dark shapes walking towards me, their features unknown to my eyes so I squint. From where I'm standing I can make out a few figures, maybe five or six, coming this way. I suppose these are the new prisoners that guard had been talking about.

They come to stop by the cell next to my own. I lean forward as far as I can to try and see who stood there in the dark, but it's still not good enough. Only when they come to pass me will I be able to see. A guard touches the cell door which swings forth.

"In!" Snaps a guard, pushing a dark shrouded figure into the cell. I watch as one figure disappears from sight.

"You certainly don't have much regard for treating your prisoners well." Says the voice offhandedly, coming back to the cell door to string their arms through the bars. I can see a pair of forearms sticking through his, for it was a man speaking, cell bars.

"Just keep your mouth shut!" Comes the angry voice of a Bangaa, and he smacked a hand on the prison gates, making them shake in it shake and moan. The guards and prisoners move past my cell, none of which I recognize. "Get back in your cell missy! Stop nosing about!" Shouts the cantankerous guard, poking me back and away from the bars with a heavy finger.

"What? It's a crime to look?" I snipe back.

"You watch that mouth 'uh yours or I'll be in there so fast you won't know what hit you." He growls through at me.

"Make my day." I snap back, suddenly feeling very defensive and rebellious. I guess the mimic in me changes gives me horrible mood swings, even to the point where I could land myself in a whole heap of trouble. But right now, I couldn't careless.

"You keep talkin' like that girly and you'll be black and blue!" The guard reaches out a hand to touch the bars and enter, but his fellow pulls him away.

"No, leave her. You don't want the boss down your throat." He says in a stiff and warning voice.

"B-but she-" He starts.

"Shut up, you think I care if your pride is hurt?" The guard laughs. "We got a job to do, don't you forget that."

"Yeah, yeah." Mumbles the Bangaa. With one last glowering look at me, he moves away. I approach the bars and resume my original position, watching them walk to the other cells further up.

"That was rather rash." Says the man in the cell next to me. "But entertaining all the same." I'm silent, not sure of what to say to that. But, wait, why did that voice sound so familiar?

"Balthier?" I whisper, hoping it was him and not some stranger. I try to see the man's face, but can't.

"Ah, so you do know me." Balthier says, obviously recognizing my voice as well. "Fancy seeing you here, Fidel." His voice was a little strained, forced, and perhaps even ever so slightly awkward, but he still had an air about him.

"Shut up down there!" The Bangaa shouts at us as the last of the prisoners are locked away. "Just 'cause you're serving Calypso now doesn't mean you're free to do whatever!" Our voices die away as the guards march back our direction, the Bangaa shaking his fist at us in warning. "I'll be watchin' you there." He nods at me as he walks past and I say nothing, suddenly more interested in Balthier than the bitter Bangaa. Making sure to wait for the door to shut, I start up the conversation.

"You alright?" I ask Balthier, feeling a little edgy all of a sudden. Although it's Balthier, I'd rather somebody to talk to than nobody.

"I've been better, I won't lie. But I suppose for being all around the mill, I could be far worse." His voice is dark. "And you? It seems you've been here longer than I."

"I'm...okay." The thing on my back twinges a little, as though just daring me to say something about it, show Balthier what pain really is. I can feel my face getting hotter and hotter as the thing in my back starts to toy with me, sending small twinges of pain through me. I stay quiet, not wanting to say anything, not wanting to show the pain with others, strangers and all, around.

"So," Balthier says, unable to detect my troubles, "what did that man mean by 'serving Calypso?' Haven't gone down the same path as Caspen, have you?" I flinch at the name Caspen, growing a little angry that he even dared to say his name, but don't comment.

"No, nothing like that."

"Well then what? What would they want with us?" He says, voice mildly interested. "We aren't that important I didn't think. But perhaps my name has tickled their fancy." He says amusedly.

"They didn't tell you?" I say, a little surprised.

"I'm afraid they've said nothing to me all the way here. My ship was shot down in the battle, horrible engineering job if I've ever seen one, and most of my fleet were captured. I came around and found myself bound and gagged in the back of a ship, heading for this place." Balthier's voice is bitter and he swings his arms a little on the bars. "What about you?"

"Penelo and I were saving Ashe. She was being taken back to the enemy ship, and Penelo and I attacked the person taking her. I told Penelo to run off and take Ashe back to safety while I fought her guard. In the end I won, but passed out due to the wounds I got..." My voice fades away as I remember the ordeal I had been through but a few hours before. I suddenly don't feel like talking, just hiding in my nest, safe. The silence between us grew as Balthier waited for more.

"So you woke up here?" He asked.

"Yeah... I don't know where exactly, but she was there... Calypso I mean." The sore on my back started mounting the pain, not wanting me to say anything. Yeah right, like I'd give it that luxury. "I found out why they want Archades."

"Oh? And why would that be?"

"These people," I say, feeling disgusted, "have found away to make Nethicite and Magicite beings. As in, they fuse monsters with all the races of the world using these powers, and in that fusion, you loose yourself, totally becoming a creature of power and obedience. These creatures are very powerful and deadly. I mean, who wouldn't be after being created out of that kind of power, and all of Archades is going to be used to test these things out."

"And no doubt it's recourses used to the Organization's advantage." Balthier states. "Draklor Laboratory is a miracle to the world of technology, but in the wrong hands-" His voice fades and we fall into a silence again. I'm thankful for a break, the little thing in my back won't stop paining me after I disobeyed it's wishes. My hands shake violently, and I crave to sit down, but won't. "Well," starts Balthier after his long and thoughtful pause, "this is serious."

"No kidding." My voice is agitated and I spit my words out through angry teeth, doing all I can to fight the infectious pain.

"You alright?" He says a bit concerned.

"Not really." I say, hating to admit it. Hating to admit to _him _of all people that something was wrong. But if he's in for the same thing as me, he should know, right? That _is _the right thing to do, isn't it? "That guy, the rude one, when he said something about serving Calypso, he was talking to me. I've-uh, got a thing in me. A Mimic, actually." I ended awkwardly, unsure of how to properly address the fact that I'm not longer a hume. And soon no longer Fidel. It's not something that comes up in conversation much...or something...I can even really believe myself.

"So, if you're working for them, why put you in a cell?" He asks. "I would think you'd be out maiming people left right and center."

"The fusion of creature and free willed being takes a while to complete. In my case, in eight days I will no longer be a hume or Fidel, just a creature controlled by these people. The process is extremely painful and only gets worse as the days go on." As I say these things, I feel as though any bit of hope I had had, if any, anything I could hold onto, was lost. Repeating these words to another was like writing my fate in stone. I slowly let myself kneel on the ground, still holding onto the bars for support.

"I see..." he says, and then as though trying to lighten the mood adds, "...it could be worse." I could almost see him raising one eyebrow with a small grin on his face. He wasn't very good at bringing comfort where it was needed.

I snort a little. "I guess...but you're in for the same treat if we don't get out of here."

"And what do you imply we try?" He asks, and I shrug.

"Don't know." I listen as Balthier sinks to the floor and presses what I'm guess is his back against the bars.

"Know if our Ashe got away?" He asks me.

"She did, but Larsa's here. They got him and are going to make him into a hybrid... like me."

"Could have sworn they were going to kill Larsa." He says mildly. "Wonder why they want to keep him alive."

"Turn him into a creature no doubt." I say bleakly, running a hand through my hair.

"Now they do, but why did they want to kill him earlier and not now? Strange how they suddenly changed their mind isn't it?" His tone is light, calculating, and puzzling to me.

"They hate Archades and then things changed." I say as though this was obvious.

"You're missing my point." He says, a little amused.

"What is your point then?" I say shaking my head in his direction as though he could see me. "These people are cruel and do whatever they want with people. What does it matter if he's dead or not so long as Archades is in ruin."

"But then why change the plans to killing both Ashe and Larsa? As far as I can see, both live, and considering these people are very intelligent indeed, I would say something doesn't add up."

"You think you've figured something out?" I say eagerly, shuffling closer to the wall that divides us, forgetting my resentful feelings.

"I think I may have." His voice is ever so slightly proud. "My guess is that they fed you wrong information. These people don't seem the type to disclose information so easily and for the public to hear. They used those soldiers you saw in Dalmasca as false messengers. More than likely gave them the wrong story to pass on. Why not keep us running around preoccupied with Ashe's kidnap and bring them what they want. Larsa and Archades all in one clean swipe. We played right into their trap." He sighs a bit. "Ashe was a lure, but a lure of a very different sort. Not only was she luring us out, but also spelling out our disaster."

"What do you mean?" I say, confused.

"I mean," he says, a little frustrated, "that Ashe wasn't the Ashe we know and love when she was delivered to us, but only half Ashe."

"You don't mean to think-" I say, speechless.

"I do." There's a pause, a hesitation of him daring to say it. "Ashe, if I guess correctly, was with the Organization just long enough to undergo what you're going through. You said eight days, correct? That's about as long as our expedition went on for, up until this point. My thoughts are that the Organization gave us Ashe, made it look as though they wanted her, and tricked everyone. Really they wanted us to have her all along. Ashe is a hybrid, as you call them. What better a way to destroy a kingdom then by the hand of your own queen? Just the thing these people would think up. And in the process they get to see the power she can unleash and all of Dalmasca."

"So, this is all just a game to them..."

"Exactly. And now it's our duty to warn everyone about the danger. Warn Rosaria before they become players in this game. Not to mention save the royals. I suppose that job falls on us as well."

"And how do we do that? We're kind of in jail if you haven't noticed."

"Still got that chain belt?" He asks me, voice full of spark.

"Yeah-?" I say, itching my head a little.

"Then come closer to the wall and I'll give you my plan."


	22. Chapter 22

I kept my body hunched up in the small compartment that was my bed, knees tucked up to my chest protectively. My heart thudded heavily against my rids, and compressed between knee and chest was my chain belt, safely hidden as I waited. It's been about half an hour since I took up this position of hiding in my bed, and I'm not sure how much longer I can wait here. The thing in my back isn't at all pleased, and every now and then I let out a small whimper of pain, unable to keep it suppressed.

_Balthier is crazy! _I think letting a large grimace pass over my face in pain and disgust and apprehension, _I can't do it! I can't! I just can't..._

And then comes the sound I've been waiting for: a door opening, the steady slide of metal on metal. The sliding is followed by the march of a set of feet. My grip on the now warm metal in my hands tightens as I feel my nerves mount.

"Get back from those bars!" I hear the voice of the angry Bangaa bark.

"Excuse me sir," Balthier conversationally starts, "but the girl in the cell next to me is rather _ill_ I'm afraid."

"Is she? Well serve 'er right for challenging my authority."

"But won't your boss be angry if you let her stay sick? Isn't it your job to keep us healthy?" Balthier's voice says pointedly. The Bangaa, caught off guard, begins muttering angrily.

"You shut your mouth!" He barks at Balthier, but I assume he takes the prisoner's advice all the same. Presently, the cell door swings open. "Don't know why I got'ta do this dirty work!" He mumbles as he marches over to my bed. "Always has to be me." I hear his feet stop by my bed. Rudely, he pushes me in the back, just barely missing the Mimic implanted in me. All the same, the sudden movement comes as a nasty shock to both me and the creature. Angrily, I'm sent a sudden burst of white hot pain that makes my eyes water. My whole body flinches in a sudden mad jerk. "So you _are_ alive then." He says in a disappointed fashion.

Brusquely, he clamps a hand over one of my shoulders and forces me up and out of the bed, letting me slump to the cell floor gasping for breath, one end of my chain belt dangling downward.

"What is..." the bangaa bends over and bats the belt with one scaled hand. The metal sways back and forth, and I can do little to stop his mind figuring the plan out. I can only heave large breaths, trying vainly to stop this pain. My legs shake and don't want to move, neither does the rest of me. Tears slowly well up and drool snaked its way down the corner of my mouth, and I was in no mood to wipe it away. "What you doing with this?" He rattles the chain.

I can almost hear Balthier's tension. He knows I'm stalling, not putting _his _plan to use. It's all he can do not to shout something at me, not to give our plan away.

"Thinking of breaking out with this?" The Bangaa grins down at me, a curled and evil looking grin. "Well there girlie," he says in a deadly whisper, "you aren't gettin' nowhere."

"Get a move on!" I hear Balthier shout at once, unable to stay quiet, knowing all too well what was happening.

"Eh?" The bangaa stands up, glancing over his shoulder, confused.

"What are you waiting for?" Balthier shouts again. My hands shake on the belt. I don't feel strong enough to kill him. I can't. I've killed before, but never like this. A run through with a sword is different than strangling somebody. You can just drop the body at your feet and run off, but now I'll have to watch him die. Really watch, and it'll be slow.

The bangaa looks from me, to the belt, then back over his shoulder, mind putting two and two together.

"You ruddy little-" he sneers at me.

"Curse it, Fidel!" I swing the belt upward so it loops around the neck of the guard. His eyes bulge, popping from his sockets, growing blood shot and dilated with fear, and he topples over. We struggle, him trying to chuck me off, me trying to hold him down. I climb on top of the man and make the chain as taught as I can. Veins pulsate along the neck line, turning a blue gray color. I feel sick. Sweat brims my forehead in a clammy way, and my hands shake.

The bangaa chokes, throat gurgling unpleasantly. His hands claw at the chain, fingers trying to pry it up and away, and then one hand pulls back to try and hit me. He knocks my chin, and my jaw bangs against the roof of my mouth.Blood fills my mouth as a tooth is knocked loose, and my hands slacken. He takes this time to try and shake me off, twisting this way and that. I fall off of him, spitting blood this way and that. His breathing is choked and gasping. A raw and red line scars the base of his neck, and he stands.

He makes as though to attack, but the lack of oxygen makes him slow. My hand searches for the belt and closes about it. He strikes again, regaining force, and I roll out of the way. I press down on the Mimic, and at once my body tenses as pain erupts. The chain falls from my hand, and I recoil.

I hear him laugh.

"Nowhere to go now girlie..." His voice is still terribly hoarse, but I can tell he's out for blood now. "What our lady don't know can't hurt her right? I mean, you is dangerous." He picks up my chain and shakes it once or twice tauntingly as if to say _I dare you to try something._ I meet his taunt.

I kick him with all the might I can muster, right into his knee. Luckily the knee isn't that hard a place to damage (considering I'm not in a mood to fight), and he crumples to the floor, an audible _pop _coming from the area I struck. The chain clatters to the stone floor, and again I grab it. The bangaa rolls about on the ground, nursing the knee which is bleeding everywhere. I aim another kick at his head this time, and although I didn't knock him out, I most certainly did something to slow him down considering the cry I got out of him.

I roll back onto the man and sling the metal about his neck, this time making sure I had a proper grip on it. I braced myself for whatever attack he gave me, but he gave little to none. He was passing out not only from lack of air, but the pain in his knee. That in itself was enough to render him useless. As I held the chain tightly around his neck, I wondered whether it really was essential to kill him after all. Mercy and shame began to creep up, but before I could make a decision as to whether or not to spare his life, he gave a shudder and fell still, chest no longer heaving.

I looked upon him, feeling disgusted in myself and revolted. Sliding off of the man, I allowed myself to vomit over the floor, letting some of the building emotion out as I did so.

"Fidel?!" came a voice from the cell next to me.

"One moment," I murmur, voice barely climbing above a pained whisper. My body shook so badly, hurt so badly, and was so disgusted with what I had done, it wouldn't move for me. Or Balthier.

"We don't have a moment," his voice is annoyed. It took far too long, and by now somebody _must _be on their way. I fight my way to a standing position and stoop over the body. I try hard not to vomit again as I take up one arm and slowly drag him away out of the cell. He was heavy, very heavy, and I had to stop numerous times on my way to Balthier's cell. Balthier's task seemed a bit more than I could handle, but I never voiced it. I couldn't. My lips were pursed tightly together so I wouldn't puke again. That would mean less energy.

After an eternity had passed, the body was placed besides Balthier's cell, and I nudged the bangaa's arm so it caressed the metal. The cell swung forth. As soon as Balthier was out, I collapsed to the wall, pressing my side against it, avoiding my back. Sweat stuck against my face and hair, vomit on my chin. I didn't even bother to wipe it, nor cared if Balthier saw. I was beyond caring.

Balthier eyed me up, regarding my quietly, and nodded once. "Well done," he said in light tones, although I could tell he was rather disgruntled that I hadn't been able to kill the man in one clean swipe. I breathed hard and did not reply. "Look away a moment, Fidel." He asked me, but in softer tones than before, and I shut my eyes. I heard a rummaging sound as Balthier began to sort through the man's clothes, and I then heard the sliding off metal against a sheath. "Why he didn't use this to defend himself," I heard Balthier comment to nobody really, "is beyond my ability to understand." I was silently thankful he hadn't pulled out the knife.

Then a disgusting sound filled my ears. Balthier was hacking at something, at something with give, moisture, and...

"You can't be-" I gasp, eyes springing open. But he was. Balthier was hacking away at the man's arm, and he momentarily paused to look up at me with a sickened grimace in place.

"I am, much to my distaste as yours. But we do, after all, need a way to get through doors, and this man has the magic touch." My eyes roll to the floor, and a little bit of puke fills my maw. I let it hit the stones, unable to keep it in any longer.

Minutes pass and finally the dastardly deed is done. There was a tearing sound as Balthier ripped some of the bangaa's shirt to make a cloth to wrap up the bloody arm so as not to dribble blood.

"Come along," he says, offering me a hand to help me up. I stare blearily at it as though not really seeing it, it's outline foggy. "I'll hang onto this for you." He waggles the arm a little mean-spiritedly, I thought, about. But all the same, I take the hand. Sitting there gave me some strength back at least, giving myself some time to catch my breath. At the very least, I could wipe away the vomit on my chin, and so I did.

"What about the other prisoners?" I ask Balthier. He gives me a sideways looks and shakes his head. "But we have to-" He cuts me off.

"No," Balthier says simply, a grimace forming again, "can't go leaving in large groups. Would give us away."

"But we can't..." I protest and Balthier gives me a look.

"As the leading man on this escape mission, I must decide who stays and who goes."

"You decide?!" I snap back, anger giving me a sudden burst of energy. I glower up at him and yank my hand out of his forcefully.

"I've been in this sort of sticky situation before, and places like this make it very easy to find a party of people wandering around. Any prison would." Glaring daggers at him, I say no more. He fixes me with a very stern look, utterly fed up. I was merely a weight on his plans.

"Can we go now? They'll be wondering where he's got to." Balthier gives the corpse a tap with his foot.

"Sure, and as the leading man I expect you to get the door." I nod to the closed prisoner cell gate. "And we'll need to free Larsa, wherever he is." I'm just pushing his buttons now, enjoying it a little.

"Fidel, how many times do I have to tell you that we can't save anyone else right now?" His uptight voice. Dismissively he waves a hand to me, and turns on the spot, heading for the door. My face inches into a look of sheer madness, and I can feel it turning red as each angry bubble inside of me pops, spewing poison throughout me.

"What?!" I explode. "Leave the king of Archadia here? Are you mad?!"

"Again, as the lead man here I have to decide who stays and who goes. Since we have no knowledge of Larsa's whereabouts we have to leave him here."

"But-but he can't be far!" Balthier turns around to silence me with a firm look. His mouth is a thin line, and catches the bit on sunlight peering down through the shafts in the ceiling. Dark circles are present beneath each eye, and in those eyes I can see the desire to escape. He itched to be rid of this underwater world. He was selfish.

"By the time we figure out where he is... we'll be back in cells. The entire point of our escape is to _escape_. We don't have the time to same him _and _ourselves."

"But-" I start to plead, but Balthier shakes his head and turns around again, still shaking his head.

"We'll save him later. Right now let's worry about us." He approaches the door and touches the hand to it. It opens at once. I haven't budged. The pirate looks at me. "If you want to stay," he calls, folding his free hand over his chest, "be my guest." I wouldn't put it past him to leave me. I start after him, tempted to stay, but hating the idea of serving Calypso again.

* * *

"Come on," Balthier says, teeth gritted. He pulls me up by my forearm after our second battle. I draw breath through my front teeth, shivering from the cold air running clear through them, but shaking all over from the Mimic in my back. It seems as though everyone knows that's the spot to hit when fighting me. Twice I've been struck with the butt of a sword or gun just above or bellow the creature, and each time I've passed out for the pain was so great. It wasn't as if I had much time to think over what was happening to me, my body simply was trying to shield me from the pain. Cool and clammy sweat perspires from my body as though I have a fever.

Balthier slings my arm over his shoulder and helps me up. "As soon as we can, I'm getting that thing out of you." He concludes. "Will alone isn't going to save you, you know."

"Y-you can't do that." I pant, voice strained, and I feel a little taken aback by this offer. Rather caught off guard. "It'll kill me." The resentment in me subsides a little, and I can't help but be swayed a little by this idea, even if it would kill me.

"The way I see it," he says, "either way you're going to die. The pain of that thing growing in your back, or die trying to get it out. Your pick." His voice is still conversational, giving me the choice of how I'd like to die.

"Can I trust you digging a knife into me back? I don't want to die." I say pointedly, trying to make out his expression in the dark.

"That's for you to decide I'm afraid." Comes his reply. "Whether you want to trust a sky pirate or not is up to you." No more is said on the subject. This thing has been in me for less than twenty four hours and already I'm fainting from the agony of infectious pain; how was I supposed to stay alive for the days to come? Traveling across Ivalice was one thing, but fighting too? That was too much for my body. And then there was the prospect of Balthier probing in my spine, removing it from my shoulders, back, and arms, all of which were hosting small bits of legs. The pain alone could end me... the idea of having my back cut open was one that made the cold hand of fear clench onto my heart.

Just then, Balthier lets me hang off of him and I stagger a little, slumping against a wall. "We have company." He says, lifting the sword he stole from a fallen guard. "Keep quiet, and this time, stay behind me." I obey, all to willing to let him take this one. As the two guards round the corner, Balthier takes them by surprise and sinks his sword into the belly of the closest one, killing him instantly. The second guard takes no time to strike at Balthier, and I shout, "Your left!" But too late, the sword sinks into his arm, and he shouts out.

I make as though to help, but don't have it in me to do so.

The attacker lifts his sword again to strike, and Balthier pulls his weapon from the first man's gut and parries the second blow, his arm bleeding badly. My hand falls to my waist, fingering the dagger I had picked up. Taking it up, I fling it and miss his head. The man makes a noise of surprise as the knife whizzes past his head, and Balthier takes this moment to sink the sword into his enemy's chest. the man slumps and Balthier removes the sword.

"Thank you for that." He turns to me, and drops the sword. I slowly approach him, and watch as he begins to tear at his shirt, ripping the cloth to make into a makeshift bandage.

"...Need help?" I reach out a hand, but he pushes it away.

"No. I've got it thank you." And he had. With one hand he could tie a knot, securely and well enough to keep it from bleeding everywhere. Without another word or so much as an expression of pain, he walks away quickly, wanting to get moving again. I follow, hoping for a way out soon.

No long after the fight, Balthier swears and takes my hand, leading me through a side door sharply. I barely have time to notice where I am before the door is slowly shut, Balthier careful not to make a sound. I listen as the quick flight of feet resounds outside, inches from our hiding place. Balthier's hand is clenched around the door handle, holding it fast so anyone on the outside would think it was locked. Or so I hoped. I couldn't tell whether he held it with good arm or bad, but either way, we were both so tired from battling...

"There's blood here, and a dead sol-shit." Exclaims a guard, voice horrified to find the two dead officers.

"But where could they have gone?!" Another says in panic, her voice rising. "Boss don't know a thing yet, and I'd rather it stay like that."

"I know, I know!" Snaps another guard, stressed. "Look, they can't have gone far, Start checking rooms."

"Roger that!" A few voices say. My heart is fiercely beating now. _Don't come in here._ Footsteps move in front of our door and I hear the door handle rattle. Balthier's grip on the handle is deadly; there was no way they were getting in here. I can't see the pirate's expression, but I imagine the look of concentration and worry over his face, the strain of keeping the door closed taking more effort than he had in him.

"This one's locked!" Shouts a guard to the rest.

"Shut up! Don't yell, we're right here idiot!" Another hisses, temper flaring.

"Over here!" I hear another voice say, "this door was slightly open, and it leads somewhere!"

"Good finding." Praises the man who is obviously the leader. "We go in and drag them out as soon as we find them."

"Yes-sir!" The footsteps die away as the people pour into the room, closing the door quickly behind them with an audible click, and Balthier gives a small breath of relief, turning to me.

"That was too close for comfort," He says, and I nod, "lets get out of here with as little fighting as possible."

"Not like we can help that." I idly say, wiping away a little sweat.

"Maybe, maybe not, but from now on let's be more careful. I'd rather not have to carry you out of here." And then I notice his gaze fall to something over my left shoulder. I feel panic rise up as he lets out a long low sigh, and I wonder whether it's another enemy. I swing around, preparing myself for a pathetic battle, but find only a large metal like thing staring back at me. Balthier takes a few steps forward and slowly touches it, trying to figure out what it is.

"This may be a sky ship of some sort," he says after a few moments, "but it may not. Even if it is, there's no guarantee we can get out of here in it."

"Won't know until we try." I slowly start walking around, head bent as though hoping to see something lying on the ground, feeling my way along it's side, careful not trip over anything that may be lying on the floor. But the floor is remarkably clear and tidy.

"Find anything?" He asks. I don't answer, just keep moving along, suddenly interested on a strange shimmering outline somewhere in front of me. I continue to edge forward, looking at the bluish light spilling from a long line that spans across what I guess is ceiling, but the line is about fifty feet above my head and goes of for a long while. That's when it hits me, that line is no line, but the outline of our ticket out of here.

"Balthier!" I hiss in the dark. "Come here and look." Balthier feels his way over to me, and stops by my side.

"I think we're in the a garage," he says. "and so this must be a ship."

"Think you can fly it?" I ask greedily, suddenly understanding why he was so cross that I hadn't killed the bangaa quickly. Freedom was so close...

"You're talking to the most infamous pirate who flies the skies of Ivalice. Flying her should be no problem. I just need to open that door up there, and find a way out of here. Mind you, we may need to fight our way out. Think you can handle it?"

"Yeah," I say, glad for the darkness to conceal my paling face, "shouldn't be a problem." I can barely keep my voice steady. Air battles bring out the five year old in me, crying for a mother's protection. Ships in general put that fear into me, but fighting-?

"Good to hear it," he says, although I'm not sure if my falsely brave facade passed his lie detector test, "find me a way to open that door, and I'll get her ready."

"Whatever you say, captain." I inch along in the dark, cursing my luck.


	23. Chapter 23

"Aghhhh-" Balthier moaned as our ship shook with the onslaught of rapid fire bullets. "Which way?" He calls to me, quickly swerving the ship out of the line of fire.

"Straight above our heads!" I shout, hugging my knees to my chest in fright. "Go up!"

"Hold on, we're going to have to swerve a few more ships before we can go up." He informs me just as the ship begins a downward dives to avoid more gun fire. "Doesn't this thing have any guns?!"

"Here!" I say and punch a button. A few missiles fly away, chasing a ship in front of us. Smoke issues from that ship's engine and it hurtles to the ground, coming to fall in a large mass of fire and metal.

"Nice shot," Balthier says with a small grin as he begins turning the ship upwards. "Brace yourself. This may be uncomfortable." I swallow hard, head pounding unpleasantly as the ship spins itself vertically and begins zooming upwards, swerving around the many ships above us.

We barrel roll over a few times to dodge a rain of bullets. I carefully lean forward just a little to keep my back from touching the leather seat. My muscles shake with the effort, so I bend over, coming to hug my knees which hang normally over the seat now. I brace myself, and tense up, if you can call that bracing.

The ship suddenly begins to violently shake, and Balthier and I are thrown around in our seats. "Damn," he mutters, "didn't see you there." He refers to a ship that just snuck up on us from the side. Hugging my legs with one arm, I use the other to fire a rain of bullets on the ships in front of us, clearing a few out of the way. "Is there an opening or a gate or what?" He says angrily, staring up at the large bubble ceiling.

"No! Just fly up through it. The material there should let you through."

"What?!"

"Just fly, you'll see!" I call back at him as best as I can considering my face is pressed on my legs. Another shot to the back of the ship makes us jerk painfully forward, seat belts cutting into our stomachs, and red light flashing in warning. I look up from my knee hugging to see the large ceiling opening up a little to let us glide into the black ocean above, the sun, a pinprick of light, just offering enough light.

"Well, that was unexpected. You'd think the ocean water would seep into that place after opening like that." He says, relieved to have gotten out of there.

"Quick," I say, a frantic, and ship rights itself, "they're coming through as well. Fly off as fast as you can and try to loose them in the dark water."

"Roger that." He says and punches a few buttons, sending us flying off through the water. In the meantime our ship continues to shake and I have a sinking feeling that we can only go on for so long before it sinks. "We'll try and loose them in here for a bit. But we're going to have to breach the surface relatively soon." He seems to be thinking along my same wave length. "She can't hold on much longer."

The ships shivers again, and I picture great amounts of steam pouring off it, leading the enemy right to us. The further we go into the ocean, the more and more hope I seem to loose of ever making it out of this place alive. The water seeps in from bullet holes in the sides of the ship, slowly filling us up.

"Balthier," My voice quavers pleadingly as I look up to find a hole in the side right by my seat. I stick a finger up to the hole and hold it tight against the metal. "Let's just go up to the surface. At this rate, we'll sink before we get away." Water sloshes around my feet, a small pond forming. Balthier looks over at me, and I don't try to hide how scared I am. It's my worst nightmare brought to life; flying in a _doomed _airship.

"I guess we don't have anything for it," he begins to ascend the ship, quickly rising upwards at an angle, "I just hope we can find land before we crash."

"What do you mean 'before we crash?'" I snap my head over to him, eyes wide, mouth forming a small frown. He sighs a little, brow furrowed with concentration.

"I'm not going to pretend we're in good shape here. Just want to warn you that things may go wrong." I'm astounded at how easily he says all of that. In a nut shell he means 'we're pretty much screwed.' At least he's honest.

The pinprick of light starts to rapidly grow, and the water starts to lighten up as we rise towards the rolling waves above. Schools of fish dart out of our way as we zoom upwards. Seaweed and other plant life are sent spiraling in all directions as they hit the ship, some getting caught in our propellers, slowing us down. Balthier swears loudly as the ship's ascent rate begins to slow down as it dies.

"Come on girl!" He says in frustration. I press my face in my knees hard, chewing violently at my lips, praying that we'll brake the surface before it sinks. The small aircraft is shaking so violently now I can barely keep my seat. The water around me is rising steadily, and water splashes everywhere. I'm soaked and cold. No longer am I able to keep my hand over the small hole in the wall, and water splashed from it to cover me. I chance a glance upwards and see the sun only a few feet above us. My eyes shut, watering at the sudden light after being in the dark for so long.

The water on the surface of the ocean breaks in an explosion of water as the small craft breaks the top of the sea, and we spiral into the sky. I sit up a little as the ship quickly climbs.

"Land!" I shout, pointing to a coastline.

"Brace yourself." He says tensely and swerves the ship around to face the ground. As we come in closer, I realize we aren't slowing down, and nor are we at a good angle. But anywhere we decide to land would have it's problems. Rocky and uneven terrain spans in every direction. We're spiraling over and over, barrel rolling as our ship dies, smoke issuing from it. I'm practically winded from hanging in my seat belt so heavily all the time. My eyes sting from the spray of salty water, and the little creature in my back quivers in anger.

I barely have time to notice the pain as our ship dives head first into the sand, spraying shells, sand, gravel, and whatever else was in our path, everywhere. And it's then I pass out, mind going black as my seat belt breaks from the shock of our crash landing.

* * *

I'm lost in total blackness, total chaos, and total confusion. For a long while I have no idea where I am; my mind is like a tomb. I stand, or at least I imagine I stand, in a pitch black room. I'm so aware of myself it's as though I'm awake, as though I am really standing in a room when really it's my mind. But I can't see anything; no shapes, no floor, no ceiling, not even myself when I reach out a hand to grope at the darkness. I'm a ghost... only a ghost onto myself to which I am the only one aware of my haunting presence. And on an imaginary wind, I'll believe it, I can hear something far away, something calling me. 

My ears try to pick up the words, but they simply drift by, unheard and unanswered. I feel very much alone and isolated here, as though no one can save or reach me, but all the while I hear a heart beating somewhere like war drum. Not really hear, more like feel the pulsation in the air. It's as though someone is watching me, and here I stand so vulnerable.

Because I am really lost inside myself, all I can do is feel and I have no real thoughts. My thoughts are anywhere but inside the ghost of myself, filling the entire room like echoes but I can't understand them. I feel so disconnected with my real self and the body I've been given now. There are two of us, one living the other ghost without a mind. Two consciousnesses of myself, mingled with that of another... another creature.

I realize something, trying hard not to think in words, just knowledge, like you know how you can think without actually thinking? Without thinking words, just thoughts with your heart? Just intention? That's what I do now, forgetting language, just feeling with my heart. My heart beats somewhere, my real heart, and I follow that soft beating, noticing it beats out of time with the other heart by a fraction of a second. With each beat it gets closer to beating in time, and when that happens I'm lost for good.

Also, when I focus on my own thoughts swirling around me, my real body thoughts, I am all too aware of another thought process drifting by, much like the words I could not reach from before. So, another consciousness is directly connected with my own, feeding off my knowledge and seeing through my eyes, my heart, hearing every word I think.

So this is what she meant by needing a master. These creatures are shut off from the world: no eyes to see, no ears to hear, no mouth to speak, and no mind to think. It uses mine and through that she speaks to it. Can I be seen now? By her? Standing here in the darkness which she lives in as well? There is no safety or shelter anywhere. I can never hide.

'Get me out!' My thoughts echo around, but I do not know what I mean. And the other consciousness says nothing. They speak not and feel not with me locked away so prematurely in the game. 'Out-' comes an echo from far away, the words growing in meaning. 'Wake up,' I hear myself think, my real not ghost self. 'Up-' Comes my echo. I can feel fear inside my head, cold and dark fear rising like water. 'Can I get stuck here forever?' I think, we both start to think, me only a few words, her every. Follow the thoughts. 'Somebody wake me up!' I hear and imitate her desperation, my thoughts and memory linking to hers. 'Please-' I think independently. Now we are one, and I wake.

* * *

My eyes flutter madly like butterfly wings, chasing sand away. Everything is so blurry for a long while. I'm lying face down in sand, so I tilt my head up a little to see better. The smell of smoke and crackle of fire is carried on a breeze, but it takes me a few moments to register them both. My stomach turns painfully, and I gag suddenly, mouth full of the taste of blood. It's then that I notice I have a large gash across my head, and I bleed profusely. I retch again and vomit up bile over the sand, left feeling a little better afterwards. With shaking and bleeding arms, I push myself up right to survey my surroundings. All I can see in front of me is wide grassy terrain and a few trees sticking up every now and then. Brown cliffs rise up off in the distance, and I recognize this place as the Phon Coast.

I stagger upright, legs bleeding with cuts and bruises, but luckily not much else. The sand cushioned the blow. Slowly, with heavy and cumbersome movements, I turn to look at the smoldering aircraft. Flames dance in all directions, metal crumbles away, and anything sitting by the wreckage burns. A smoke cloud issues upwards into the gray heavens above to which no sun peeks. As I look, I see no trace of another, Balthier, lying in the sand close by to me. Suddenly, I feel panicked and frightened. Had he not gotten out?

Ignoring my currently state, my body breaks into a run towards the craft as my flight or fight instinct kicks in, pushing away all reason and logic. My legs propel me towards the wreck so fast I'm there before my mind is. Quickly, I run around the ship to see if he's lying by it, but don't find him. I then realize he must still be inside. I walk around, looking for a gap in the flames, and spot one, just below the windshield of the craft which isn't on fire and is remarkably only broken into a few pieces and isn't lying in shards. I guess their technology in the end was good for something.

I get down on all fours and crawl into the flames. Twisted metal and burning leather is all I can see. The smoke fills my lungs and makes me cough violently. I'm not sure how long I've been out for, but Balthier must be in pretty bad shape depending on how long he's been in here. I move away from where I was sitting and dodge around a flaming piece of scrap metal falling from the ceiling to make my way to Balthier's seat.

I come around and find him lying on the floor, his seat over top of him like a small tent. Half of it is held up by the dash board and the other half holding itself up as fire burns on top. At the very least he was protected from the fire by the seat. Again, I clamber down onto all four and crawl under the seat with him.

From the looks of it, he's pretty banged up with cuts and bruises everywhere, not to mention a few burns from sparks, but nothing life threatening. At least on the outside. I hold a hand up under his nose and feel breath hitting it. Internally, I sigh with relief. Just in front of us is a small gap, ever so small, and it leads into the ocean, only a few feet from land.

From the crash, it seems as though the ship is slowly being pulled out to sea. Fresh air creeps in providing un-smoky air for us to breath. I roll over onto my back, and prop myself up with my arms so I can see what I'm aiming at. I put my foot up against the gap, careful to aim away from Balthier's head. I wind my foot back and kick at the hole. Burning and brittle metal and glass fly off into the water below, and I've made a hole wide enough for the two of us to clamber through. I turn myself around so my head is where Balthier's is and stick it out of the ship.

The ocean is a few feet below us. I crawl through my gap and land in the water. I then stick my arms through the gap and grab onto Balthier's shoulders and begin to pull him through. It's not easy because he's so much bigger and heavier than I. My arms shake with the strain of supporting him. Soon I have him halfway out, torso and head draped over me. I begin to walk backwards, dragging his feet with me. I fall over, laden my his dead weight and cut my hand of a piece of glass as my arm goes behind me to break my fall. I wince and I suck on my hand a little, Balthier still draped over me like a big and wet blanket only bloody and it breaths.

Slowly, I get myself to a standing position, trying hard not to drop Balthier or let him be cut be by the glass and metal littering the ocean floor. I walk slowly, dragging him along by his armpits up to the beach, unable to carry him on my back any longer. I stagger onto land but pull him as far away as I can from the burning craft. Finally, I stagger over, body far too tired to go any further. We are about thirty or so feet away and safe from falling metal and jumping sparks. I lie him, face up, in the sand, coming to kneel by his side so I can inspect any damage done. He too has a long gash along his forehead which bleeds. I clumsily rip a piece of my shirt and dress the wound as best as I can. Blood seeps into the shirt at once, but I can't bring myself to do any more with it at the moment.

I then look the rest of him over. His arms are a burned as are his hands, and cuts line his legs in many places. I can't tell if he has any broken bones or not, but it's clear that we both need some medical help.

Blood appears on is face, speckling it. My eyes scan over him for any other serious cuts that may be doing bloodying him up, but then realize it's my own gashes doing this. Everything was becoming foggy, sliding in and out of focus, and I wanted to pass out. My head throbbed, and I touch a finger to the cut, oozing blood into my eyes. I blink and try to wipe the blood away.

Suddenly, I get hit by a fresh wave of nausea and dizziness, I stop looking for wounds. I think I'm going to be sick again and crawl a little ways away from where he lies so I can retch, but come up dry. Slowly, I slump over into the sand, unable to stay upright any longer. Maybe it was foolish saving him and not treating myself at all, he who had more ego that brains at times. But in that moment when I noticed he wasn't in the sand with me...I don't know. He did risk his life to save us both, so, I guess that makes him worth something.

My head turns to face him as he lies six or so feet away. Vaguely I wish I could be closer. My eyes linger on his sleeping form, wet and bloody, his eyes lightly shut with lashes just touching his skin. I couldn't look away from him as I lay there, half dead, feeling totally at peace. His face was the last thing I saw before I blacked out again, and it gave me comfort... not being alone.


	24. Chapter 24

Again I was locked inside myself for god knows how long, unable to speak or think or discern the whispers around me. The longer I stayed in there, the more frantic and frightened I became as my conscious self slept. But after a while, the blackness grew strange. Or at least stranger. I felt fear in this place, but it wasn't my own. Maybe more confusion than fear, and suddenly there was pain, unending and spirit shaking pain that made my ghost fall to her knees and weep.

I could not escape the pain here either. I had nowhere to hide and nowhere to run. Nothing to pass out into. My ghost begged for death, crying for it as I felt myself being ripped apart, torn into, savagely and with little regard to my body. It was as if I was burning up, being set on fire and left to slowly smolder into ruin. Each nerve ending burned away, making me shiver and hope to find a place to hide, to escape...like a cowardly lion. Only death would grant me that. I couldn't take my own life while in this state, but if I woke up I could.

Life, I knew, would bring me a far worse pain if I did waken, so I was afraid to try and wake up. I compromised with myself. If the pain was not over in a few hours, I would wake and kill myself, no matter how bad it was. Slowly, my ghost self fell into a numb state, the pain so bad, never escalating nor declining, that I began to not feel it any more. It was like pins and needles all over, only it hurt far more, but the same tingling sensation crept up over me.

Hours did pass, and no break seemed to come, but I couldn't focus enough to follow my whispering mind. I tried, but couldn't hear. All there was, was frantic whispers of jumbled words and a quick beat of a heart, so fast I think it might burst. I only prayed it wasn't my own.

And then the pain began to mount again, rising so fast the blackness seemed to shake. My heart and soul felt as though it was being torn again, like paper. I screamed, but silently. Around me shook fear and anger, making the black nothing pulsate and reverberate.

_What form of Hell is this? Surely nothing in Hell could hurt so bad. _Having the feeling that each cell on your body is being ripped away slowly and without mercy was beyond Hell. And not being granted death was even worse. No longer did I care for the kingdoms lost or the people made to suffer. Surely my suffering topped theirs. At least death would accept them.

_"Accept them-" _I heard. That made me stop for a second.

I understood.

Should I follow?

Yes.

I could die then. But as I thought about death, the pain began to ebb suddenly, receding. Relief was swift and unexpected to the point where I didn't know how to treat it. Had my body finally died?

_"__No-"_ I began to think, suddenly pulling out of the darkness. Whether I wanted to or not, I was being put back into my own normal head and body, soul and body one again. The blackness melted into dreams, but all the while, I could hear the faint, ever so faint and distant, beating of a heart, so quiet it almost wasn't. So quiet it was almost part of my dreams, but I knew it was no dream.

I dreamed for a long time, remembering not what I was dreaming about, but knowing I was doing so. My body was far too weak to think or remember, far to tired. It felt strange, like slowly breaking the surface of water, when I did waken, although it was for a few moments.

Conscious thought met me and I slowly became aware of my surroundings, although I kept my eyes shut a while. My head pounded, stomach doing turns and churns, and body shaking with fever. I could feel a dim light hitting my the back of my eyes and a soft downy bed beneath me, giving way to my tired body's weight.

A blanket was tucked up to my chin, soft pillows cradling my head which ached with pain. All in all, I was warm and comfortable, and from the smell of it, a fire burned by my bed, breathing relaxing incense around the room to ease the pound in my head. I hear something beside me, like water being swirled around in a bowl. A damp and cool cloth sponges down my forehead, water trickling down my face in small rivers.

My eyes slowly open. It takes a little while for everything to come into focus. A low white ceiling, paint chipping away but still friendly on the eyes, is the first thing I see. The light of a fire dances on it, sending shadows flickering along. The room I'm in is very small. Only the bed I lie on, a small wooden dresser, and a chair are in it. A closed and draped window sits behind the chair which holds and old woman. Her face is kindly and old, wrinkles deep, and knowledge and understanding fill her wizened face. Her pale blue eyes crinkle a little as she smiles, seeing me wake.

"You're up," She says softly, voice easy on my head. I blink a few times, trying to collect myself a little.

"Where am I?" I murmur softly.

"A town on the Phon Coast. Lucky to be alive you are." She sighs softly under her breath and takes the cool cloth across my forehead once more, pursing her lips as she eyes my with just a hint of worry. "I am Nadia, the village wise woman." She says before the question even occurred to me to ask. "When that man brought you here half dead and covered in blood, we all though you were a goner." Her voice still seemed to think that. I was too sickly to care much.

"Man?" I say feebly, and then I realize she was talking about Balthier. "He's okay then?"

"Yes, he's fine. A few bumps and bruises here and there, but nothing life threatening thanks to you." She smiles again and sponges down my head with the cool water. "You came in here in a very poor shape...not just those cuts and bruised. Those were fine to mend." Her tongue pokes out between her lips a moment, as though she wanted to lick them, but didn't. "There was something inside you and the man had been trying to get it out apparently, but you were loosing more blood than you had in you. He carried you all the way here and we were able to fix you up."

"Y-you mean-" I stammer, noticing suddenly that I felt nothing in my back, "it's gone?"

"Yes, that thing was removed...so we think..." Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, relief sweeping over my. I closed my eyes for a bit, shivering slightly from my feverish cold chills. "Unfortunately you've come down with an awful fever that won't go away. You've been here for five days-"

"Five?!" I say, voice rising a little. The woman shushes me gently, patting the quilt with an old and veined hand.

"There, there. Yes, five. You've needed a long while to recuperate. You need a chance to gain your blood back and fight off the infection. Once you are ready, the man said he is ready to go." I try and sit upright.

"I have to go-" I say, wincing. "Dalmasca, Larsa, they all need-" She pushes me back down with a soft hand, and I'm too weak to fight her. "But they need me-"

"Not while you're like that they don't." She gives me a motherly look and I slip back under the covers. "That's a girl."

"Where is he?" I ask, starting to drift off again.

"Close by." She says. I drift away again.

* * *

When I next wake it's day by the looks of it, sun creeping in through the shut and draped window, light refusing to keep away. I still feel weak and drained, but I can think clearer now after many days of rest. I watch the ceiling a bit, gathering up my strength. Slowly, I push myself up, but I notice something. When I try to move my left arm, I can't. I can move the right one fine, but not the left. My heart beat quickens and I take up my left arm in my right, trying to spur some sort of movement, but it just flops. 

"Waaaaaaaaaaah!" I cry out in shock. "My arm! My arm, my arm, my arm-" I repeat over and over, frantic with panic and fever. I hear hurried feet from outside and the old woman enters my room.

"So you've come to again? What is all the fuss?" She says her voice mounting over mine, obviously startled by the sudden scream.

"My arm, I-I-I-," I stammer, on the brink of tears, "I...can't move it! I can't move it at all!" The old woman bustles over and takes up my arm in her hand.

"Let me see." She says and begins to feel the joints and muscles, nerves and skin, bone and blood. Her old hands move over the lifeless arm, knowing each particle on me as well as she knew her own house. Her fingers push and prod gently, cold old hands steady as she feels her way up to my shoulder. Fingers pause, and her brow furrows, mouth a frown. She pushes down once more. "Here, I feel no muscle here." She murmurs softly.

"Wha-" She could feel muscle or lack there of? What does she mean "no muscle?" There comes a sudden voice at the door.

"Unfortunately," I look up and see Balthier leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, "that thing in you had a tighter grip than we had banked on. I'm afraid some of the muscle to your arm was eaten away. Hate to be the barer of bad news, especially when you're so ill, but there it is." His voice is even.

"You mean it's paralyzed? Forever?"

"Maybe, I do not pretend to be an expert at wounds. But from what I can tell, it's rather bad." He walks into the room coming to stand at the end of my bed. I just stare back, unable to digest his words.

"Do not give up hope for your arm yet," the old woman says to me, trying to quell the storm starting to rage, "nothing is for certain." I just sit in silence, staring at Balthier in numb shock. "Until then," she continues next to me, "I'll fix you a sling to hold your arm in. Can't have it just hanging by your side." She leaves the room. I watch Balthier for a few moments longer.

"We're leaving," I announce, readying myself to get up,

"Not with you still recovering." He says simply. "I know this is a shock for you, but that does not mean you should act rashly."

"I don't need you to think for me!" I bark at him. If he hadn't tried to get that thing out of my back, if he hadn't interfered-"Just stop it!" My voice is distraught, the sides of my eyes dampening with tears. Balthier comes around to sit beside me in bed.

"You need to rest. We can't have you off fighting monsters while sick." I shake my head at him.

"Stop it! Don't give me that 'you're too sick' crap! That wasn't your buisness to do!" My voice rises, anger and grief growing too. It was his fault I didn't have an arm..._his _fault for acting so rashly, not me!

He waves his hand as though to silence me, and shakes his head. I glare back, right arm rubbing the left as though willing it to move again.

"...your fault..." I mutter in a voice full of bitterness, eyes dribbling with tears.

As if to change the subject, he reaches a hand into a breast pocket and pulls forth a letter. "Fran and others were here about two weeks or more ago. Fran left us a note, telling us where they are. We're heading to Mt. Bur-Omisace. They're hiding out at the refugee camp there. Apparently, our suspicions about Ashe were correct, but unfortunately there's little we can do about it now." He sighs at length, apparently itching to get going. "Once you're ready, we'll leave."

"...How? No ship as far as I can see." I say in a voice of contempt.

"Nedakh can take us there." Balthier says getting up, smoothing out his pant legs.

"Nedakh?" I flatly ask.

"I never told you the name of my shy ship?" He shook his head. "Where are my manners? But anyhow, I can summon my ship from the Sandsea to here at anytime we need, so no worries about travel."

"Couldn't I rest on the ship?".

"Do you ever settle down? Even for a moment?" He shakes his head and goes to leave. "Once you have your full strength back, we'll go. Until then, sleep tight." As he leaves the old woman enters carrying my new sling. She slowly closes the door behind her.

"Such a handsome lad." She comments as she walks over to me and takes up my arm. "Fancy a man like him in a house like mine?" She laughs softly, but her face is oddly sad. "Have eyes for him?" I look at her indignantly, a blush rising up, eyes suddenly fierce. Where did this come from? Hadn't she heard me yelling at him a few minutes ago?

"No!" I snap, right hand tightening its grip on my left and dead arm.

"He tries so hard to protect you. I can see it in his eyes." She wraps up my arm in the sling and drapes a strap over my neck to keep it up right.

"But I can fend for myself." I say to her. "I can save myself. I don't need him hanging over my shoulder all the time. I don't."

"You expect a lot from yourself." She shook her head. "Don't get thinking that you are able to live on your own. I'll tell you, you can't. Take what help you can get. Let him be the man and watch out for you. It's a special thing to have someone who cares about you." Her words are soft, but they hit me like a ton of bricks. H-he cares about me? Even though I've done little more than give him attitude?

The old woman pats me on the cheek and gets up. "Take it easy on yourself. Just go with the tides. They do their own thing, why shouldn't you?"

There was no way he liked me in any way, shape, or form.

But what if he did? Or what if that woman was just going crazy?

I glare at my arm, but a small pit of curiosity has built up. She touched something, something very true. Something I'd rather not admit. Whether I liked it or not, I needed his help. Even with the Mimic, I needed him to fight my battles, literally. Now it looked as though he'd need to fight a few more.

Don't get my wrong, I was still mutinous that he had gone ahead and ripped me apart without thinking...I was now an arm down...but Nadia had left me with some food for thought.

I squirm deeper into the covers, seeking some sort of warmth and comfort. It was a long while before I fell asleep again though. The wall nearly had a hole in it by the time I had done looking and was fast asleep.


	25. Chapter 25

Days dragged by and my fever fluctuated. I spent at least three days more lying in bed, just lying there, half asleep and half awake. The cut on my back was sore with infection, and Nadia cleaned it every few hours, changing the bandage and feeding me medicines which I had a hard time keeping down.

My stomach turned with summersaults, and nausea continued to bite at me for days. I didn't dare eat anything, and anything I drank I took my time with. Balthier visited at least once a day, preferring to stay away and keep me from getting worked up again. I

It was on the forth day of coming to that I finally could eat. My fever was down by a lot and my wound was healing. Nadia fixed a hot and jasmine scented bath for me. I gladly slipped into the warm water and soaked for what seemed to be hours. I had a hard time staying awake as I mulled everything over in the hot water.

And as I began to feel better, I also started to feel shame for snapping at Balthier the other day. He was only trying to help after all...but every time I start to think that, I glance down at the dead weight attached to my shoulder, and some anger flares.

Another day passed and I began to walk around the small house in the overly large and baggy shirt Nadia had given to wear. Quickly, I grew restless inside the room in which I had spent the last ten days resting in.

"Give yourself at least two more days before leaving," Nadia had told me as I had nibbled a bit of bread. "We can't have you pushing yourself too hard."

And still my arm showed no signs of life. It hung across my chest in the sling and didn't move. I couldn't even feel it. The nerve damage was so bad I had lost all feeling in every part of the arm from the shoulder down. My dead arm depressed me a bit, and some nights and mornings I'd sit propped up on my pillows and try to vainly move it to no avail. Suddenly, everything seemed so hard to do with only a right arm. I was glad I had lost my left and not my right, but still, I'd rather have both arms. From putting on clothes to eating, my life had turned into a challenge. I didn't want to know how a fight would turn out if I had to defend myself. With a dead arm, I couldn't even hold a shield to protect myself.

On the sixth day Nadia gave my a skirt to wear, saying a skirt was much easier to put on than pants with my arm. As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. The skirt was light blue and came down to my mid thigh, exposing my very pale legs, and it was easy to get on and off. Skirts aren't an article of clothing in which I like to wear, but in my circumstances I'd rather not spend forever buttoning up shorts. Nadia also gave a light and long sleeved tan-ish gray shirt to wear as well, the neck swooping down a little too low for my taste, but it's comfortable. Nadia let me out for a little bit into the sun, saying that the fresh air would do me some good.

I left the house and stepped out into the blue skied world, shielding my eyes from the sun above. It was warm by the sea and salty breeze drifted lazily along. People walked nonchalantly, laughing and dipping their feet in the warm water. Deciding to take a small walk, I headed for a portion of the beach that wasn't dotted with waders and people, preferring to just spend a little alone time.

I walked up to the water's edge and wriggled my toes in the wet sand as sea water drifted up to wash over them, warm and refreshing. Small fish darted around my toes, nibbling at them a little. I walked out a little further and squatted down, enjoying the marine life swimming about me.

My hand slipped into the water, and I tried to catch one of the minnows darting about my feet. I only managed to scare most of them off in my attempt, so I decided to stay very still and wait for them to come back. It took a few minutes of squatting there, very still, and they gradually started to nibble at my feet and right hand. I tried hard not to giggle at the tickling sensation they gave me.

"Careful," Says a voice behind me, "don't want to get eaten do you?"

"How d'yah know I was here?" I ask, knowing the voice to be Balthier. It's hard not knowing. I stand up, noting that the hem of my skirt is kind of wet.

"Lucky guess I suppose." I turn to face him, but don't feel like getting out of the water. After days of being sick, I'm sick of land. If this place wasn't full of people, I would be skinny dipping right now. "I dare say you're tired of this place." I shrug a little and watch a small minnow swim up to nibble my big toe.

"I've been sick for most of the time. Haven't had a chance to get bored. Unlike you," I say pointedly. He sighs a little.

"I'm used to action," He says mildly, looking up and down the beach to the people strolling along, "I'm just not used to the air here. It's too pure for an old sky pirate like me."

"Well, I plan on leaving tomorrow." I say. I had been thinking about leaving ever since I could rationalize my thoughts. We didn't have much time to act or warn people, and the longer we spent here, the worse the situation would become.

"You plan on leaving?" He raises an eyebrow. "Don't see _ your _ ship anywhere." He observes.

"I mean to say," I correct myself patiently, trying not to get my skirt in a twist, "that I should be _okay_ to leave tomorrow."

"You sure about that? You've only just come around. Waiting a few more days might not be a bad-" I cut him short.

"No," I shake my head defiantly, "we have to leave. The longer we're here, the larger the risk of putting everyone here in danger. Besides, we're just flying, right? I can finish getting better on the ship."

"What about that arm of yours? Don't you want to wait and see if it comes around?"

"It's not going too," I look down at the dead arm slung across my body, "the nerves are far too gone for any chance of movement."

"Sorry to hear that. It's my fault your arm is like that after all." He takes a step forward, feet standing at the waters edge. "The thing wasn't coming out and I was loosing my patience. The longer you lay there bleeding, the closer you were to death." He breaths a small sigh. I don't answer him, just continue to watch my arm. "But," he continues, "I have a way to make it up to you."

"Huh?" I say, eyes tearing away from my arm to stare blankly at him. "Make it up to me?" How can he do that? Cut off his own arm and give it to me? I had a brief image of myself with Balthier's arm sown on where my dysfunctional one had been.

"If you come out of the water, I'll show you." He folded his arms and waited patiently. Heart beating a hair faster, I walked up to him, upsetting all my aquatic feeders.

"Okay-" I say awkwardly. He beckons me to come and sit in the sun with him. My heart hammers madly although I don't know why.

"Here," he reaches into a pouch on his pants and pulls out a small gold earring. "I'm going to pierce an ear for you."

"What?!" I say, flustered.

"Pierce an ear. I'll only do one ear for now, but a member of my pirating crew can't sail the skies without at least one piercing, can she?"

"And just how are you going to pierce me?" I say, looking nervously at the earring in his palm.

"I have a needle here somewhere, give me a moment." He begins to rummage around in his pocket for a needle. His organization techniques worries me. "Here it is." Balthier extracts his needle.

"You do know how to do this don't you?" I eye up the needle. He smiles a little.

"Don't trust me, eh? I've done all my own and it's virtually painless."

"Why do I find no comfort in that." I say halfheartedly.

"Well, do you want it or not?" I nod once. "Where?" I point to the cartilage on my left ear.

"There, and be quick." I feel myself tense a little. No matter how much pain I'm exposed to, I never really get used to it.

"Try not to flinch. It messes me up." He comes to sit in front of me and lifts the needle to my ear. "You don't have to watch me." He says, noticing I'm staring at the arm holding the needle, my eyes bulging a little.

"I'd prefer to watch if you don't mind."

"Suit yourself. So, on the count of three then? Or shall I make it four?" He teases me a little. I smirk a bit.

"One,"

"Two,"

"Three," The small metal needle sinks into my skin quickly, sliding easily through the cartilage. I feel myself twitch as the spot where he sank the needle into stings and throbs. My face grimaces and I end up closing my eyes. But to my surprise, it's not as bad as I thought it would be. Balthier removes the needle and puts a small golden hoop earring through the hole, fingers deftly fastening the back of the earring. "Careful not to play with it or take it out. To much touching can infect it and taking it out will close the hole." He sits back to look at his handy work.

"How does it look?" I ask, tilting my head so he can see it better.

"See for yourself." He offers a hand to help me up, which I take, and he walks me down to the water's edge. I stoop down to look at my refection in the sea. The hoop, there's no other word for it, looks cool sitting atop my ear. "Like it?" I smile at my reflection.

* * *

Leaving the Phon Coast was bittersweet. Nadia had protested me leaving, saying that I should rest up. I guess she hadn't thought I would really leave in two days. 

"Come and see me when you get the chance." She said to me after I had hugged and thanked her for all she had done. "And remember not to put to much weight on those shoulders of yours." Her voice had been so gentle and caring that I almost cried. It was like I had my mother back. The mother who had watched me grow and mature, only to die at a young age.

The Nedakh arrived around half an hour after Balthier had summoned it, normal flying speeds fully restored to it after the repairs done to it in Balfonhiem.

And so I took up the seat next to Balthier, knees pressed to my chest tightly as we rose into the sky. I was careful not to pin my dead arm in an awkward position as I smothered myself behind my knees, but it was difficult. Our crash landing from before hadn't helped my feelings towards airships in the slightest. And that reminds me,

"What ever happened to the ship we crash landed in?" I ask Balthier once we've safely taken off into the sky.

"The sea swept it away by the looks of it. I decided to go back and see for myself a few days ago, and there was no trace of it. A good thing indeed. I dare say if it had stayed there much longer the beach would be crawling with the enemy."

"Yeah-" I say, breaking off into a thoughtful silence, eyes loosing focus for a second before I say, "but why weren't we followed or captured by those guys? I mean, we're sitting ducks."

"My guess is, is that when they put that Mimic into you, your genetic code was changed in someway, sort of what you said before. That way you wouldn't and couldn't come up on their radar."

"That makes sense," Distantly I answer, "but why do I look like me? Not like some mutant or something?" Balthier shrugs.

"Maybe it was just your insides that changed. I mean, after all, Ashe got passed us no problem. We couldn't even see the creature inside of her."

"How do you think Larsa is?" I can feel my voice trembling. I work hard to keep it steady as some of my questions and fear spill out, hoping Balthier might ease them, just a little. Balthier is quiet for a few moments.

"Hard to say." He says finally. "Depends really on what they have done to him. But I don't have a good feeling about it."

"Why?" Again there was another gap between question and answer.

"Truthfully, I'm not sure. I just don't think something's right is all. I guess Fran has been rubbing off on me." He smiles, thin lipped. "Why not rest a while? The trip isn't a long one, but I'd rather not see you relapse."

"Whatever." I try to relax a bit, but can't. I have to stay awake for the entire trip, just in case something happens...with the ship...but what's more, some nights when I sleep deep enough, I think I can hear a heart beating somewhere. So faintly it almost, almost isn't, or maybe it really is nothing. Just a nightmare. And yet-

I close my eyes in a feigned sleep, but I don't think I was fooling anybody...

* * *

I blinked, surprised, as the ship touched down. I found myself sprawled over the chair, legs dangling oddly. So sleep had found me after all. Silently, I cursed myself for not staying awake.

"We there?" I ask, rubbing my eyes a bit.

"Would appear so." Balthier stands. "Sleep well I take?" I nod and stand up, trying to look a little more dignified, although it is hard with bed head. I crane my head to the window and look down upon the refugee camp on Mt. Bur-Omisace. Flakes of snow drift past the window, and I shiver unconsciously. No matter what time of the season it is, this place is always cold. "Come on," Balthier says, a little impatient. I tear my eyes away, and I think, out of the corner of my eye, I catch someone running towards the ship. Hurriedly, I follow Balthier. The rising door in the ship's side lifts up to let in a blast of frosty mountain air. I feel goose bumps instantly spread the length of my body, and I hunch over a little in cold, cursing my short skirt. I certainly feel breezy.

"Balthier! Fidel!" Cries a pair of voices I know well. The two of us descend from the ship, and I feel like some sort of war hero fresh from battle. Vaan and Penelo race towards us and I can see heads poking out of refugee tents, all confused and a little worried. Penelo dances around in front of us, obviously on the verge of tears she's so happy to see we're okay.

"Fran was right! Fran was right you'd be okay!" She says her voice full of paranoid relief.

"Calm down Penelo," Vaan says, "you'll scare them away." She laughs a little, and wipes her eyes. In the distance I can see Fran and Basch walking towards us.

"Your arm!" Penelo notices, staring at in a sling. "W-what happened?!"

"We'll explain after we aren't being watched by all of the refugee camp." Balthier says pointedly. Penelo nods, although reluctant.

"You're late." Fran says as she reaches us.

"Well met," Balthier says to his partner.

"It is a relief to see you both," Basch greets us. I look to the knight and see large sags under his eyes from many nights of no sleep. His face is unshaven and his eyes are bloodshot with worry. He feels guilty and responsible for loosing Larsa and Ashe.

"Long we have waited for your return." Fran adds. "Come, let us leave the cold. We have much to discuss." We follow Fran, Vaan pestering Balthier about all that has happened. Balthier shakes his head and tells him to wait. Penelo walks beside me, saying nothing.

The six of us walk to a large green clothed tent pressed against the side of the mountain, tucked away from the cold wind and snow. The inside is lined with blankets and a small magic fire burns away in the center, warming the place up considerably.

"Tell us your story first." Vaan says almost as soon as we get into the tent, his voice demanding and firm.

"Oh, look who's being rude now." Penelo mutters, nudging Vaan in the ribs. We sit around the small fire, and I pull a blanket across my lap to keep my legs extra warm.

"Where to begin," Balthier says thoughtfully. "I guess after I woke up is where I'll start. Fidel, make sure to tell your part of the story."

"Once you're done is where I'll pick up." I nod. Penelo looks confused. "We didn't meet up until later," I explain. "Kind of by lucky chance." Penelo nods softly and Balthier begins his tale.

It takes an hour, Balthier and I switching off. By the end, or nearing it, I was sick of hearing my own voice and more than ready for rest.

"And so we landed here," I finally finish. Penelo and Vaan questioned us the entire way through, and Fran and Basch dotted the tale with an occasional question too.

"It is a relief to hear the king is alive at the very least." Basch says, face still crestfallen. "It is a pity he must suffer such a fate."

"Indeed." Fran agrees, eyes distant and tired.

"How did you know we'd be on the Phon Coast?" I asked the question that had been bugging me for last few days.

"I am viera, and although I left the wood, I still retain some connection to Ivalice. She let me see you." Fran smiles a bitter smile.

"So," Balthier transitions the conversation, seeing that it was straying into something we'd rather not go, "what happened to you guys?"

"Well," Vaan starts, "luckily we were all together for the most part. Larsa was captured and we found Basch out cold in the snow." Basch shifts uncomfortably and Vaan speaks no more of Basch and Larsa. "...we managed to stay together," he repeats," Ashe too, and fled back to Dalmasca."

"But, as you guessed, it wasn't Ashe who was with us." Penelo starts in. "It didn't take long after our arrival to notice she was acting weird. Very short tempered and she was up to something strange. Very shifty and distant."

"Too late we were in seeing her true colors." Fran adds. "Dalmasca fell within two days time, and the four of us had to flee."

"How did she take over?" I ask.

"There were people already in the castle," Penelo explained, "ready for Ashe's arrival. After they had Larsa, it was safe for the plans to begin."

"And what better way than with Dalmasca's own queen." Balthier's dark voice cuts in. He shakes his head.

"Getting out of the city was hard." Vaan takes the conversation up. "We almost didn't snag an airship."

"And we wouldn't have to have stolen one if somebody hadn't lost his!" Penelo hisses at Vaan.

"Would you not bug me about it for two seconds!" Vaan rolls his eyes.

"She's right," Balthier says, pointing a finger at Vaan, "and I expect you to get the Strahl back."

"Can we not stray from the subject." Basch's tired and weary voice floats in.

"Right," Penelo nods, eyes darting to basch apologetically,

"So, we almost didn't get away." Vaan starts up again with a warning look to Penelo to keep quiet. "We managed to loose most of our pursuers once we hit the skies, but there were a number we had to shoot down. Our ship ended up getting shot at and crashing in the Ozmone Plains."

"We hid in Jahara for a day or so, and Fran sent you the letter from there, so we were never in the Phon Coast. After that we had to leave that place and head for Mt. Bur-Omisace. Some nice people here gave us a tent and blankets." Penelo finishes.

"Any word on Archadia?" I ask.

"Most of the refugees here are either from Archadia or Dalmasca. Both are in the same state." Basch states.

"Any word from Rosaria?" Balthier questions. Fran shakes her head.

"None," She answers, "I fear they be next on the list."

"No doubt." Balthier leans back on his hands.

"What do we do about Rosaria?" Penelo wonders to no one in-particular. "We can't leave them to suffer the same fate."

"No we mustn't. Our duty is to warn Rosaria." Basch says, a little bit of his old vigor coming back. He sits up, shoulders long and dutiful. He stares meaningfully around at each of us.

"You're suggesting we fly there?" Vaan asks Basch who nods.

"Indeed, I am."

"I see no other option." The viera says. "We need an ally to fight this enemy."

"Yeah," Vaan says, "besides we haven't been to Rosaria in a long time."

"No we haven't." Balthier observes.

"It's settled then!" Vaan says, voice full of excitement. He rises to his feet, eyes blazing, ready for action. "We're heading to Rosaria and see if they can help us get Dalmasca and Archadia back, not to mention save the king and queen!"

"And just when are we going to do this?" Penelo looks around to everyone.

"Now," Basch stands up, "we mustn't waste any more time."

"But they've only just got back-" Penelo starts, but is silence by a glance from Fran. "B-but...they must be tired! You can't-"

"We shall leave now." Fran says, getting to her feet, cutting off Penelo. "If we don't, there shall be no Rosaria to warn, I fear."

"I guess we'll have dinner there then?" Balthier mutters, a little disappointed for dinner is so far off.

"Do you only ever think with your stomach?" Vaan jokingly bothers Balthier.

"No, I think with women in mind too." Balthier grins and Fran snorts, a sound rarely heard from a viera, and keeps walking. "I heard that, Fran."


	26. Chapter 26

The Nedakh traveled Southwest over the continent Ordalia. The airship passed over Sandsea and Dalmascan borders to reach Rozarria. The flight over the Mi-rham dessert took a while, even with the Nedakh's speed.

Once sick of sitting still, I got up and peered out a window, looking down to the rolling dessert below. I have heard many a tale of bandits and dessert folk sailing the sands, ships with large sails attached for gliding over the endless hills and dunes as the eastern winds blow. Ruins of ancient temples once devoted to the gods litter the earth, three thousand years of baking in the sun leaving them cracked and blistered.

I dare never touch those stones. They'd be cursed from angry gods who looked upon the races of the earth shamefully for letting these temples and cities fall. Just like the ancient city below the Dalmascan empire, this desert used to be home to many races and civilizations in its day. But unlike the ancient ruins beneath the city, people still lived amongst the ruins, building small dwellings and trying to preserve the ancient ways. Not many people have tried to make contact with these desert people. Nobody even knows if they are people. Three thousand years ago the races of Ivalice walked side by side and interbred, producing the races we have now. It just proves that we are all connected in someway, but some are too pig headed to know that. Or be willing to know.

My eyes quickly grow tired of staring at the sun bleached sand below, and I retreat to my seat. My knees pull up under my chin and boredom settles in. The flight didn't take much longer after that, but I still was bored out of my mind. No one spoke. We all sat in an anxious and unsettled silence, all of us questioning whether approaching the Lord Irthahym Aht Margrace of Rozarria was right and praying he would help. What if Rozarria had already fallen?

"Hey," Said Vaan, breaking the silence which hung pregnant in the air, "that's the city line." He pointed to the horizon line. Indeed the Rozarrian capital, Rigveda, loomed along the horizon.

The city's tan colored wall rose up out of the sand, sky ships soared the skies carrying people and merchants, and tall ornate buildings were visible from even a distance. Rigveda sprang up along the banks of a river, giving the city a source of water and room to grow crops.

Chocobo stables were kept by the wall, the birds in the process of being taught the finer points of keeping a rider astride in battle. Irrigated farms were planted along the riverside, and a large vineyard spanned to the west of the city.

Rigveda was one of many large cities in Rosaria, but one of the few to be located in the Mi-rham dessert. Not many towns could flourish in such a climate, but since the river was right by, and no native people seemed to mind the placement of the town, it was able to grow.

"I hope Al-Cid won't mind us visiting." Penelo said with a small smile.

"Something tells me he'll rather enjoy our stay." Balthier comments. Penelo blushes a little and Vaan gives her a sideways glance but says nothing, only scowls a bit.

"Al-Cid?" I turn to Penelo.

"He's the prince and heir to the Rozarrian thrown. Didn't you know?" I shook my head. I only have ever heard of the king; although, I have come across word of a flirtatious and politically inclined son who enjoyed women a little too much for his own good. I giggled a little inside as Penelo's cheeks got a litter redder and Vaan's scowl deepened.

Rigveda was different from many cities. Unlike the other capitals, this place had a relaxed air to it, the people were social and welcoming. And also unlike other cities, we had to place our ship outside of the city, part of the security system. Any unregistered ships must land outside of the wall, and I guess our ship had never been registered. But I was not sorry that we had to walk, even in the scorching heat.

The people of Rosaria spoke with an accent, and many of them had dark tanned skins from staying out in the sun for so long. The bright star hung at zenith, making the earth even hotter. I could feel sweet rolling down my neck, and for once was grateful that my skirt was short. Hot legs are the worst feeling. I rolled my long sleeves up to my shoulders and wished to kick my boots off and run barefoot, knowing the stones beneath my feet would be extremely hot. But I didn't care. I wanted sweet relief.

The tanned clay of the lavish buildings sculpted with images of war heroes, gods, and stories of old, soared up above our heads. Even the homes were meticulously detailed. It rained hardly ever here so there was no fear of the buildings collapsing.

I peered into a shop as we walked by, headed for the Rigvadian palace, and saw that inside the floors were made of a rich dusty looking marble and the walls were trimmed with gold leafing. This certainly was a rich city if even the peasants could afford such luxury. I stepped out of the building and marveled at how the inside and out were both beautiful, yet completely soaked in different kinds of beauty... and still seemed to click somehow!

Basch lead us through the city. He told us of how he and the Lady Ashe had frequented this city with business. In fact, Basch also looked after and cared for Larse in his brother's place, so he knew his way around very well. There was always someone waving towards him in a friendly greeting, to which he returned the wave, knightly and dutiful. Basch was really something else.

We passed hume and moogle and bangaa alike, but rarely stumbled upon a seeq or viera, those two races not fond of the immense heat, preferring warmer and more temperate regions. Humes stared in silent and subtle wonder at Fran, and I wondered if Balthier had noticed. I wondered if he was jealous of this. I was deeply curious...

What Balthier found worth fretting over was not my business but his, however. And what he did in his free time wasn't my concern. I began to wonder what he did in his free time at this passing thought, wondering what he and Fran did to amuse themselves when things got boring. They really didn't seem the fun and games sort. I felt a little bite from envy as my fantasies got the better of me. Hadn't Fran said that they weren't romantic? That they were just very close friends? But what kind of _very close friends?_

I shook my head, chasing away these unwanted and uncomfortable thoughts, but the sudden self inflicted anger stayed.

"You okay?" Vaan asks me as he notices my deep glower. The frown is gone in a flash, replaced by a sheepish grin.

"Yeah, it's just a little hot for me." I wipe at my forehead. Vaan nods.

"Nothing like the Sandseas, or anything near Dalmasca's heat. This place is worse." He says in agreement, blinking sweat from his eyes.

"I wonder how Al-Cid manages to look so _good _in this heat?" Penelo says, looking up at the sky wonderingly, voice distant as though she's in Penelo-land. Everyone stops and looks at her. Vaan is quiet a few seconds, blinking in the sun, trying to comprehend this, and then he explodes.

"WHAT?!" He shouts. "THAT GUY?!" Penelo gasps and puts a hand over her mouth, coming down to planet Ivalice with a painful _thud_. She looks around wide eyed and red cheeked.

"Come on," Basch says, starting to walk again, saving Penelo from the awkward stares, "we should get to the Palace as fast as we can."

"What did you mean by that?!" Vaan is at Penelo's shoulder, not giving the poor girl a rest. She sighs angrily and speeds up her pace.

"Leave me alone Vaan!" She snaps, tossing a hand over her shoulder to bat him away.

"Not until you tell me why-" It goes on. Vaan has seemed to have lost his head.

"This is not good." Fran whispers.

"At least they take our minds off the heat. Nothing like a lovers quarrel to entertain." Balthier says to Fran.

"You're cruel." I say to Balthier, who shrugs.

"Don't deny an old man his fun." He answers back as though watching the two argue over Al-Cid was perfectly acceptable, a mild grin in place.

"You're hardly old."

"23, I'm practically dead you know."

"Is that so?" I say and shake my head, playing along. "Well I'll just get you a cane while we're here."

"I think that a very wise idea. My back might give out at any time."

"You poor thing."

He smirks.

We stood in the castle's well furnished and bright waiting room, waiting for the guards to come back saying that we may speak with the king. The room is full of lively reds, blues, purples, greens, golds, blues, and every other shade of the rainbow, but it all fits and matches like a peacock's feathers. Showy, but attractive.

The inside is cool, _thank the gods_, and smells faintly of vanilla, in-scents burning away in each corner of the room. A large and elaborate couch, red and decorated with gold designs, sits in the center of the room, in which Balthier plops himself down between Vaan and Penelo who won't even look at each other. They just sit stony faced and stiff backed with arms folded tightly across their chests, both wearing a look of annoyance and hurt on their faces. It's a little awkward to be around them. I have no idea what to say.

I took a seat by an empty fireplace and crossed my legs, trying out this whole 'being a lady' thing. I figured I had better have good manners and act the part of an aristocrat. Or, try to. Crossing my legs just isn't my style. I feel all awkward as I sit and can't seem to balance right. One leg then falls asleep and the other feels restless, so I switch and the same thing happens. I just don't see how people can sit like this. My legs uncross and tuck themselves under my chin. I rest my busted arm on top of them and my chin on that. God I hope my boots aren't dirty. Something tells me the king wouldn't appreciate unclean seats...

A knock comes from the door and everyone's attention instantly snaps towards it. With a click, the doors swings open to reveal a few Rozarrian guards, clad in royal blue robes trimmed with silver lining. They rather resemble the Archadian Senate, except these men and women are young and a little more relaxed around the edges.

Among them stood a man, slightly out of place. His attire was not royal at all, but it still had a political air about it. His shirt was a dusty blue that was wide open at the chest, leaving most of the brown skin and chest hair to show freely. His white pants had a tanned brown leather armor going down both of his legs, and although he was inside, he wore sunglasses. Behind him stood a lady servant, and with a flourish he handed the woman his sunglasses revealing light and pale brown eyes. So, I'm guessing from Vaan's expression and Penelo's cheeks that this was Al-Cid.

"My friends," He says, coming more into the room, "it has been a long time since we have all congregated. What brings you to the empire on such short notice?"

"Arcadia and Dalmasca have both fallen." Basch gets right to the point. Al-Cid looks confused a minute, taken aback, raising one eyebrow slowly, face becoming very stern.

"What do you mean 'fallen?' I have not heard of this. There has not been word from the Lady Ashe or his Majesty Larsa in a while. Surely if something had happened they would have said something." He folds his arms.

"I speak the truth." Basch says evenly. "As a knight of the land, you know I would not tell such tales."

"I never accused you of such. It is just hard to believe, you must understand. Please," He came in and took a seat, crossing his arms, "I wish to hear of how this has come to pass. And you," He looks to a guard, "fetch my father. He should be here."

"Right away, Sir!" The guard hurries away.

"So, tell me," Al-Cid looks back to Basch, "why was there no warning of this?"

"Everything happened far too quickly. We will explain everything once your father arrives." Al-Cid nods.

"That would be best." Nervously I take my feet off the chair, suddenly realizing that I still have my legs under my chin. "And where is the Lady?" Al-Cid asks. At this, Basch's eyes flicker a little, showing an inner pain of shame. The flicker is gone in an instant, but it is clear the knight suffers.

"As her empire. Not dead, but a slave to the outside forces. Her fate is shared by Larsa." Basch answers. Al-Cid shakes his head.

"Whoever took these empires must wield great power in order to break both Larsa and Ashe."

"It appears so." Fran says. Al-Cid looks at me, noticing that he's not seen my face before.

"And who might this be?" He smiles in-spite of the situation. I blush a little.

"I'm Fidel, sir." I say, voice respectful.

"And how did you come to travel with this group of travelers? You are a new face here, no?"

"She's on my pirating crew." Balthier puts in for me.

"I did not think you took on newcomers." Al-Cid says to Balthier who shrugs.

"There's a time for everything I suppose." The door then opens, revealing the Lord of the empire. His face was old, but not too old. A long black beard flecked with gray fell his stomach, woven into a fine braid, and a golden crown sat upon his head, bedecked with emeralds and rubies. His eyes were a deep mahogany brown, very unlike his son's, and his robes were a deep shade of ocean blue, trimmed with gold. In his hand was clutched a sword, more as a symbol of status than a weapon in which to kill another with. His face was contorted into a look of confusion and wild anger.

"What is this?" He said to the room, voice booming out. "Who dare say that the Arcadian and Dalmascan empires are fallen?!"

"I said it so, Sire." Basch stands and bows low. The Lord Irthahym Aht Margrace eases himself a little as he sees it was Basch. The anger melts away as the snow does in spring, replaced by a most grave look.

"I did not know it was you who said so, Basch fon Ronsenberg. You who has stayed by the Lady's side and served as a protector for his Lord Larsa in the death of your brother. You who could tell no lie. Forgive my tone." I never would have guessed that a King would humble himself to a knight.

"I think we should hear of this new danger." Al-Cid says with a look to his father who nods.

"I think so indeed." His father agrees.

And so we told our story, from beginning to end for what seemed the thousandth time. It was a shock that no one had yet heard of this terrible power growing. I showed the men my arm and the scar on my back from the Mimic when we reached that part, undeniable proof that these people were real and they're might seemingly unbeatable. I talked of Calypso and the Organization when they asked of them. My old devotion to these people made his majesty wary of me, I could tell, but he did not say anything against me.

"You say these people have great powers of Ivalice. Powers that the gods wield." Al-Cid says.

"So it would seem." Fran answers back with a nod. "We do not know of a way to break this power. We come to Rosaria for an answer and help."

"I think I know of a place that may come of help," Al-Cid stands as he speaks and walks to a bookshelf, pulling down a heavily bound and old book. "In this book," He says flipping it open and turning the pages, "there are many maps of the ancient world of Ivalice. The old cities and temples of the dessert are as they were thousands of years ago." He puts the book down on a table, open to the right page and beckons for us to gather around.

We do so, after the king of course. "In these very deserts that circle our city, out there somewhere, lies an ancient temple, still standing. Or so speaks the legend. This place is a reserve for energy that gathers in the planet. Here it is said the gods and Occuria would speak to the races of Ivalice in the early days to give them guidance. There are eight places like this around Ivalice, but each is hard to find. To reach the Temple of Gihram, you must travel by night only and reach the temple by morning's onset of the seventh day of the month, otherwise you will never see the temple, even if you stand at it's alter. Once inside the temple, find a place to pray and then perhaps a god will show you the way. If it is godly power we fight, it is a god you must seek." Al-Cid's finger taps the old map. "Here is your Temple." We squint at the small dot on the page, the writing beneath it faded.

"Yes," His majesty says, "the Temple of Gihram. It's people still guard it's doors." His face is dark. "I dare say you will have trouble getting in."

"Trouble seems to follow us wherever we go." Balthier says to this.

"Aye, it would seem as though luck smiles on us not." Fran forms a small smile.

"The seventh day of the month?" Penelo says. "Today is the thirty first."

"Then we leave on the sixth." Al-Cid said simply.

"What do you mean 'we?'" Vaan defensively says.

"I wish to come along. It is my kingdom too that is in jeopardy." Al-Cid responds, unfazed by Vaan's anger.

"But you're not king yet!" Vaan counters boldly, face glowering up into Al-Cid's face as though daring him to challenge the bow. Al-Cid raises an eyebrow and Vaan.

"Vaan, would you drop it?" Penelo snaps.

"Don't tell me what to say!"

"As it were," The king cuts into this argument, "my son is to be betrothed in a month's time. Once that is done, the kingdom is his."

"Oh," Vaan says weakly with a look to Penelo. I look too but see no trace of sorrow or shock, just determination. I can see Vaan's jealousy and anger dying, giving way to guilt.

"Yes," Al-Cid says, "and in two days we will be celebrating with a ball. I would like it for you all to join me in the festivities. A time of celebration and fun is much needed in these dark times."

"Wonderful, it's been a long while since I got dressed up." Balthier smugly says. "I'll finally get to break out my waltzing."

"Waltzing?" I have to say, feeling my voice catch a little in a laugh. "You _waltz_?"

"I am a gentleman after all." He bows his head a little.

"It is true, the infamous sky pirate waltzes." Fran says, though with a sigh in her voice.

"See? What did I tell you?" Balthier smartly says.

"Although, he was drunk most of the time." Fran adds mildly, tossing a little of her long white hair.

"You weren't supposed to tell them that, Fran." Balthier crosses his arms.

"Well, I am glad you look forward to coming." Al-Cid says, amused, a smile spreading over his face.

"In the meantime," Lord Irthahym says, "we shall have rooms and food prepared for your stay."

"A bath too, I pray?" Balthier says and Irthahym nods.

"That goes without saying." After a few more minutes of talk, we leave the waiting room...

* * *

Hi! It's been a while since I posted something in a story... I just wanted to say that we're coming to some of my favorite parts in this story. From here on out, pretty heated and intense stuff happens, and I'm really excited about posting it up! I hope you find the next chapters and the rest of the story (we still have a long ways to go) enjoyable! And thanks to you all for your comments; each one is appreciated! Bye! -Intwilight 


	27. Chapter 27

A day went by, most of that day was spent lazing around, trying not to think of all that had happened, and the inevitable problems to come. Very hard to do when you're doing nothing. I busied myself with a long walk in town, heavily bedecked with flowers in celebration for the ball the next day. I did a few odd jobs around and earned some pocket money with which I got myself a new shirt.

My shirt had no sleeves at all, in fact, it was a wonder it could stay up at all. A tube top like thing that was a dusted brown and a belt fastened around the waist with a few pouches to hold coins and what not. I thought about selling my boots for something else, but decided against it. I was far too attached to my boots. My feet hadn't grown in years and I had had these shoes for a while now. And they were still in good shape I might add. A few scuffs and tears, but the material was strong and thick. I could wear them longer.

Also while I was out, I bought a head cloth that tied my hair back out of my face. The extra cloth hung down my back, great ripples of olive scarf blowing about in a soft wind. I could dip the bandana in cold water and soak my hot head in it for a while. It was extremely refreshing.

I slipped outside the city for a while and went to the large river rushing passed the city. People waded in the shallows, seeking refuge in the cool water. I went to a hume free area and slipped in. After some difficulty, I got my clothes off and put them on the bank. My body floated on top of the water for a while, and I drifted around, eyes closed, totally relaxed.

My dead arm hung limply, dangling down into the water. I couldn't even feel the small fish swimming around my arm, inspecting this deathly pale thing dipping down into their home. Sleep nagged at the sides of my brain, begging to be let in. I toss my head about and sink beneath the cold surface to wake myself up. The icy bite of the water felt amazing against my face. It was a wonder that such a cold stream cold flow through one of the hottest deserts in Ivalice.

I swim back up to the surface and toss the water from my hair, opening my eyes. My body freezes.

There by the bank stands a boy, my age or older, watching me, a stupid fat grin on his face. His short and curly brown hair caught the sun in a most obnoxious way, and his face was so clean and innocent that it struck a nerve with me. Color was rising in my face as we stared at one another, his gleeful pupils meeting my embarrassed and livid ones.

"Pervert!" I scream at him finally and scoop a fistful of dirt into my hands. He shields his face as I hurl the stony dirt at him and quickly scramble to a patch of reeds to hide my naked body.

"Hey!" He whines, rubbing dirt from his face. "This is a public river and I was walking along when I saw you. Thought I'd come and tell you off for skinny dipping in public waters."

"Doing a fine job of it!" I snap back him, fist tightening around another clump of mud. He ducks away as I fling the mud at him, narrowly missing my attack. He puts his hands up and backs up a bit.

"Chill, okay! I wasn't enjoying myself." He wheedles, trying to inch back like a slimy slug.

"That grin on your face says otherwise." I fling another fistful of mud at him.

"Would you cut that out! Look," he says turning to face me again after backing up more, face exasperated, "you can't go doing that. Anyone could come along and watch you. Not safe to run around naked."

"You're one to talk." I say, disgruntled at the fact that he was too far away for me to hit him with more mud.

"I was teaching you a lesson!" He scolds me, waving a pointer finger at me. "Look, I'll turn around, let you dress, and walk you home."

"Maybe I don't want to go home." I say lightly, flicking a bit of water off my nose.

"Your shoulders are getting sunburned." He points out. I look, and they were turning red. Damn it. "So where is it you live?" He says as though it's decided that I'm got go home immediately. Bastard.

"I don't live here," I poke the red area of my shoulders to see if the spot turns white. It does. "I'm a guest at the castle. People like you aren't let in. That's the rules." I sniff, starting down my nose to the burns forming along my shoulders, trying to give him an impression of royalty, like I'm sort of hotheaded Senator. He seems not to notice my last statement and keeps grinning.

"Are you now?" He says interestedly. "Funny! I live there too. I'm the son of a nobleman."

"Small world." I say with bitter smile. "Turn, I'm getting out." The boy bows deeply and turns about. I hop out of the river and take my clothes behind a bunch of reeds to dress, which takes a while, but the boy doesn't say anything or hurry me.

After dipping my head cloth in the cold river and tying it about my head, I declare I'm ready. The two of us walk off together, much to my distaste, him talking animatedly about living in the castle, asking me a few questions now and then. Vaguely, I wonder if he liked what he saw when I was just floating there. I tell my brain to shut up before I can continue the thought process.

"So, I never did get your name. Mind telling me?" He says casually as we walk down the busy streets of Rigveda.

"Fidel." I say shortly.

"Interesting name. It short for something?"

"Yeah, my full name is Fidelynn, but I prefer Fidel. Shorter and easier to say."

"I like Fiddy personally." He says in a teasing way. I look at him as if to ask 'are you for real?' No one has ever questioned the nick name Fidel, or tried to call me anything else. It simply has never happened.

"Um-" I say awkwardly, not wanting to sound rude by saying, 'that name stinks.'

"It's cute." He continues.

"Cute isn't what I go for."

"What about Del? Or Lynn then?"

"Just Fidel, if you please." He shrugs, a little disappointed.

"Well, my name is Phathe. Not many nick names for that, but I don't really need one." He scratches an itch on his nose. "So, tell me, do you have a boyfriend? Or a man you fancy?" I stare at him in disbelief. How upfront could you get?! If you ask me he was spending **way **to much time with Al-Cid. But at least Al-Cid knew how to treat women. And not spy on them while bathing. I hope.

"Er-" I stammer. What was I supposed to say? _That the only guy I had ever loved was killed?_ That didn't seem the thing to say. Especially to a guy I didn't know anything about except he had a thing for dripping wet women. But maybe that would scare him away. Make him think twice about pursuing me, make him scared he'd die too, like I was cursed or something... "The only guy I ever had feelings for died." I said quickly and shortly, and presently my pace in walking sped up. I half expected him to leave, but he picked up his pace too.

"My dear woman," He said sympathetically, taking my hand as though to sympathize. "How awful. I'm sorry, I would have never asked if I had known the answer would be that."

I shake my head politely but take my hand back irritably. " No, don't worry about it."

"So, do you fancy anyone new then?" Again, I stare blankly at him, blinking as though trying to get inside his head. I even stop walking.

"What gives you the nerve to ask that?!" I snap at him, face turning beet red. He chuckles a little.

"Your cheeks say yes. Who is the lucky man?" His eyes glint as he asks this question as if he had stumbled upon some sort of lavish treasure. The grin on his face showed every tooth in his head, and there was an eager air about him.

"There _is_ no one! I'm just surprised a guy who I know _nothing _about is standing here asking such personal questions!" I turn on my heel, and keep walking, walking as fast as I could without tripping.

"Uh-huh." He says with a satisfactory grin, and marches on after me like some puppy on its master's heals.

"Leave me alone!" I shout back to him as he hangs at my shoulder. "I never asked you to escort me, not go!" We walk into the castle.

"But you didn't protest!" He says knowingly with a wise nod as though there was something to it.

"Phathe!" Cries a voice from above our heads. We look up and see a small group of guards running along, coming to find the boy. I whisper a silent prayer of thanks to what ever god will listen. "Come Phathe, you are late!" They snap from the top of the golden marble stairs.

"Coming!" He says to them. "Just saying goodbye to my lady friend." He turns to me and bows. "I apologize for grieving you so. I pray to see you again soon so I may make it up to you." With that, he takes my hand, kisses it _(to my utter horror)_ and leaves me standing, nonplussed and steaming.

* * *

I stood in my room, in front of the floor length mirror, eyes closed. I'd spent the last two hours, no joke, getting ready for this damned ball. I had even done my hair all nice and made it wavy, like the top of the ocean. The dress I had grappled with for the last half hour was a satin strapless and crimson dress. I hated crinolines, but I had to put them on, all the fashion apparently. Making your butt so big you look like a duck or some water bird isn't very alluring in my opinion, but whatever. Heels weren't my specialty either. I swear these things make me at least four inches taller, but I don't mind being small. I'm small for a reason, but apparently they match the dress. A golden hoop was laced through my piercing, a gold chain hung from my neck, a gift from Phathe. Even though I really hated that boy, the chain was beautiful and I wanted it. And lastly, their was my arm, slung up in a delicate sling, or as delicate as you can get. 

My eyes open after I take a deep breath, readying myself for the nightmare of seeing myself all prettied up. When I opened my eyes, I was startled. There, staring back at me from the glass was a girl, flustered, but not not half bad for my own DIY. Never in a million years would I have guess that that girl could be so lovely. Never would I have guessed she were me. Never would I have guessed that I could apply eyeliner without making myself look like I had war paint on. Although, the sling did take away from the effect a bit...

I left my room, head high, but still feeling a little out of place. Did it matter that I didn't know how to dance or had never been to an event like this? Then again, I doubted Vaan or Penelo had been to one of these events before either, so I felt a little better. I descended the stairs, careful not to trip headlong to the bottom, which I very nearly did a few times. A small crowd of people was entering the castle through the large entrance doors, chattering away excitedly. All of them looked like they could waltz. Very well I might add. I was the black sheep among a heard of white. These women around me all looked stunning, more beautiful than I. I had thought I had done myself up well, but these women were pros. Gold ringlets of shiny hair falling to the nape of their necks. Brown curls bouncing in jubilees of beauty. I was the only redhead. Go figure. Everyone else seemed to be wearing better dresses too. Mine had been used by Al-Cid's sister five years ago and hadn't been worn since. It looked brand new, but when I thought about it, wearing hand-me-down ball gowns seemed rather childish.

I watched the crowd of handsome men and gorgeous women pass by, and I wonder if I still have time to escape back up to my room. No one would miss me, I'm sure of it. But then I feel a tug on my arm. Damn, looks like I won't be escaping.

"Fidel," It's Penelo, looking as nervous and scared as I feel, "I don't dance." She whispers at me. "I think they can though." She nods to a group of giggle girls, all of which could give the vieras a run for their money.

"We'll learn together. Nothing for it." I whisper back at her, nodding and smiling politely at anyone who looks at us.

"Do we have to go in?" She pleads. "I don't know what I'll do if I see Vaan."

"What do you mean?" I said, puzzled. "I though you two made up."

"Sort of," she says sheepishly, "he's still jealous over Al-Cid. I didn't mean to make Vaan so upset, but still I-I don't know." Her cheeks are bright red again, eyes downcast. "I think I love Vaan." Her voice drops even lower.

"I thought you liked Al-Cid." I whisper back, leading her onward by the forearm. Penelo smiles softly.

"I only said that to make Vaan see I'm not going to be around forever. If he doesn't get a move on, I'll be taken." I didn't think Penelo had it in her to be so maniacal and purposely play with a man's heart. But apparently she is.

"Well, I have to say your evil trick worked. I've not seen him so dreary." I smile, teasingly. Penelo smiles too, although still looking guilty.

"I didn't mean it to go so far. Vaan can't really even look at me. Even though he apologized for getting mad, I think he' may have resigned himself to the fact that I'm not his. But I am!" She looks as though she's about to cry. I pat her on the back sympathetically. "Now what should I do? I'm scared to say or do anything else." We enter the ball room.

"Penelo! Fidel!" From the other side of the ball room I can hear Vaan coming. Penelo's eyes widen.

"Just tell him how you feel." I say, pushing her towards him.

"B-but!" She says, alarmed. "A-are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I think it's mutual. But you can never tell. Luck." I shrug with a wink and disappear into the crowd as Vaan appears. They need some time alone I think.

The room I'm in is huge. About a thousand or more people could fit in here. A large golden chandelier hangs from the giant ceiling, white marble floors sparkle as the many candle lights shimmer off of it, giant windows which also serve as extremely large doors are pushed open so people may wander onto the enormous balcony that over looks the entire city and castle gardens. An orchestra plays in a corner of the room, and at the far, very far, end of the dance floor stands a giant stairwell, obviously where Al-Cid and his bride wait to walk down when the time is right.

I looped around, ducked under, and side stepped many people as I swam through this living and breathing ocean. Still, I couldn't shake my self-conscious state. At least Penelo had Vaan each other to lean on. I had no best friend.

"Fidel!" Came a voice. I turned, relieved at first, but most defiantly peeved when I saw it was Phathe. His wide grin smiled at me from a few feet away, tight brown curls glinting as the light hit them. I do have to admit he was rather handsome bedecked in his suit, but his air still annoyed me. I smiled all the same in greeting, hiding my dislike from him. "I see you wear the chain I gave you." He said with a satisfactory smile. "It's lovely, isn't it?"

"Why else would I wear it?" My voice is almost too pleasant sounding, but he laps it up. Maybe I shouldn't have worn it after all. If I tossed it over my shoulder while he wasnt looking, I could just tell him he had imagined it being there. Tell him I hated it and him and wanted them both to rot in hell. Him and his peeping tom ways. But I don't. I simply smile and take his arm when it offers it to me.

"I would like it very much if you danced with me. Just once if it pleases you."

"I can't dance." I say shaking my head. Yes, a way out! "I've never danced once in my life I'm afraid. It may be better if you found another girl-"

"Nay, I shan't wish to dance with anyone else." He bows deeply, and I'm forced to blush a little. It was rather sweet. I hate to admit it, but his stubbornness touches me a little. "Please, I shall teach you."

"Alright. Teach me." I give him my hand, to which he grins broadly. His one hand takes my waist while the other takes my good hand."Sorry, I'm maimed so bare with me." I say, indicating my dead arm.

"I find you all the more alluring for it. Now step with me, left first, then right. Left, right, now step over this way-that's it!" His wide approving smile gives me confidence. Maybe I didn't suck at dancing. Maybe I could do this. "Now spin!" He twirls me slowly once, and I stumble in my heels a bit. I grimace. A few women snicker. "Careful," He says gently. I nod once and he commences the waltzing. Step up, over, back over, up again, and over again. Not so bad. I guess. Phathe continues to instruct me, giving me encouragement. I just ever so slightly recent his 'you can do it!' tone as though under my two left feet I am a dancing prodigy, but I soon tune it out, focusing on getting the steps. Slowly, as I get it down and he takes the dancing up a level, I start to enjoy myself again.

A few songs go by, us dancing around the room. My footing was getting better. We practiced the spin twice more and I didn't fall on the last try. By now everyone had come into the room, and only a few of us were dancing. Most other people were watching, some coming in to join after a few minutes of standing on the sidelines. It was such an out of body experience, so surreal. Never would I have guessed that I would be dancing among the most royal of people and actually be enjoying myself. The musicians struck up a new and faster tune. Our feet sped up and I hoped I wouldn't stumble over. I wasn't used to being so tall. It took a few moments to adjust to the change in tempo, but my feet learned fast to pay attention. Neither did I stumble or trip once. My body moved the way it should while dancing. I felt graceful. A smile tugged at my lips a little.

The lights dimmed, more people danced away, and the higher I felt. Waltzing was a simple box step. It took a little practice for me to get it down, but soon I felt I could dance as well as the rest of them. Phathe smiled at my enjoyment.

"I'm glad you're happy. You always seem so sad." His voice softly says in my ear.

"I'm not always sad." I say indignantly. "Why do you say so?" He shrugged a shoulder.

"You never seem to let loose. Something is always on your mind. It confuses me. I can't seem to get inside your mind."

"Well, not many people can."

"But I want to be one of those few." His voice is stubborn again, and again I'm touched. "Look at that guy," He points to someone over my shoulder. I look over. "see? He's having fun. He doesn't shut himself off." It was Balthier. But he wasn't alone. A crowd of women was surrounding him, giggling and flirting. What was more was he was flirting back. My face fell. My happiness melted. All of my confidence and pride was gone. I was astounded at how Balthier hadn't even noticed me. Not even noticed me dancing. Not even come up to say, "hello, want to dance?" Nothing. He was too infatuated with his gaggle of girls to notice meager old me. "He's been talking to so many different women tonight. I've watched. He looks happy." It was true, he did look happy. "And I want to make you that happy. Happier than that man if he had a million women around him. Do you think I could do that?" I look back at him, blankly. No longer did I care about his pretty words or his eyes staring longingly into mine. Not that I really ever cared, but no longer did his words touch me at all. A sudden wave of mad and untamed jealousy had washed over me. All I wanted to do was cry. I put so much effort into looking nice tonight. And you know why? It was for him! Balthier! I had so wanted to make him notice me for what I really was. For who I could become. Not just some smart mouthed brat. As a young and charming woman. But no, he didn't want just any girl, he wanted the lovely and vivacious ones with money and big breasts. I feel tears start to prick at my eyes, watering up, and Phathe thinks they're for him. He puts his arms tightly around me, murmuring softly in my ear. "It's okay." He says, stroking my hair. How sick could this joke get?

Just then a light touches the stairwell and everybody looks to it. The orchestra starts up a new song as a man climbs the stair. It is none other than the Lord of the land himself, Irthahym.

"My dear people!" He says, voice echoing around the ballroom. Everyone stops the chitchat immediately. "I am very pleased to see so many people here, celebrating with the Margrace family of our son's marriage and soon rule over this magnificent kingdom!" Applauding comes after this. "It is with a sad and happy heart that I give my eldest son to my beautiful soon to be daughter-in-law, the Lady Jibrel. I wish you all to welcome them both, and bid them a long and happy life." The crowd begins a mad applauding and cheering as the soon to be king and queen stepped out into the ballroom from behind two large white doors, and they descended the stair. Jibrel was incredibly beautiful. Her hair was a deep reddish gold, falling to her waist. It gave a shine like the stars in heaven, straight and perfect. Her figure was flawless and the way she walked was like an elegant bird, every step full of careful grace. The woman's head was held high as she looked out over her people, and in her eyes was the power and strength of fair and wise queen. No one seemed to notice the golden dress she wore. All were too preoccupied with her face. She was by far the most beautiful woman in the room. Hands down.

The orchestra strung up a new, slower, dance for the two. The pair moved to the center of the ball room and the crowd parted away, forming a large circle around them. The way they danced was as if one person was dancing, not two. Their movement was so fluid and graceful I felt envious watching them, wishing I could be so graceful. So graceful as I might attract the attention of a certain other who had yet to see I existed. Phathe slipped his hands around my waist and hugged me gently from behind, still trying to comfort me. I angrily wipe away the last of those bitter tears and focus heavily upon the two dancers in the center of the room. Minutes pass, and a man offers his hand to a woman standing next to him. She takes it with a flirtatious smile and the two join Al-Cid and Jibrel. Seconds later a few other dancers step onto the floor. Phathe tugs at my hand.

"Come with me." He whispers in my ear. "I think we can get away now."

"Get away from what?" I whisper back, but he doesn't answer, only leads me through the now dancing group of people. On our way to where ever, we pass the group of women surrounding Balthier. I look the other way, trying hard to avoid eye contact. Something tells me I couldn't handle that right now. I've never felt so jealous or upset before; it drives me crazy. Makes me want to do something insane just to get his attention. I barely notice when the two of us step out onto the balcony, breaking free of the crowd.

Phathe takes us past the door windows so we're out of view from the crowd. I hardly notice. The moon shines brilliantly down from the stars above, illuminating the grounds around the castle, full of rose bushes, flowering trees and shrubs, and a large fountain, erupting water.

"Is something the matter?" He asks, noticing my vacant and distracted expression. I shake my head, slowly.

"Nothing. Just tired I guess." I lie. He watches me still, unconvinced that I was just tired. Phathe fastens his arms around me once again and holds me close. My arms are kept bolted to my sides and I tense up. I don't want him to hug me. He's not the one that I want-

"You were having such a wonderful time in there. That face of yours lit up like the sun when we were dancing. That light didn't go out just because your tired. Tell me, was it something I said?" Again I shook me head.

"No, nothing like that." I murmur, the only image in my head was of Balthier chatting it up with his women.

"Then tell me. I want you to be able to share everything with me. Everything, no matter how trivial." He breaks away, pulling his arms off me fast and spins me around to face him. "I can't get you out of my head!" He looks as if he's about to cry. I feel myself opening up a little, starting to be swayed by his words. I couldn't help but feel even a little special and secure when he spoke to me like that. I began to pretend he was Balthier, not Phathe. If I turned my head a certain way the moon made him look like the sky pirate. "I want to know you." He continues, taking my hands in his. "Please, say something anything!" I stood there, feeling stupid. My eyes wouldn't stare back into his no matter how hard I tried to make them focus. Again I shook my head. Obviously, that wasn't enough for him. The next thing I knew was that I was being savagely kissed. I flinched all over and he stuck his mouth right against mine and pushed me back against the castle wall, arms tightly around me again. His tongue pierced my mouth, probing around, caressing the inside of my mouth. I wasn't sure whether to kiss him back or not. I most certainly was not in love with this boy, but he was a damn good kisser. However, letting him get the wrong impression would not help my position at all. Phathe really didnt seem to notice I wasn't kissing back as he made to bite my bottom lip ever so softly, a little hint of blood filling both our mouths. His hands moved the length of my body, making me gasp a little bit. In my mind he became Balthier. If this was Balthier what would I do? How would I kiss? I bit him back, softly nibbling his upper lip. His hands rolled over my shoulders, rubbing the skin. His lips moved away from mine to kiss my neck, working down to my collar bone. I leaned my head back against the wall, eyes closed, picturing Balthier.

Finally, I had come to terms with myself. Up until now I tried not to think of the man who had killed Caspen as my crush, but no longer could I deny it. So hard had I tried not to fall again, and so soon after Caspen's death, but I couldn't help it. Not after everything we had been through. I can't stand him being with other women like that. Looking more happy with them than he did with me. I pulled the boy's face back up into mine and engulfed myself in him.

"So," Says a voice from the door, and Phathe instantly breaks off of me. We both look to see who was speaking. "this is what you've been up to." It was Balthier.

I stared at him, and he stared right back. I couldn't read his expression, nor did I want to. His voice was disapproving.

"I thought you were still in mourning." Balthier continues. Phathe instinctively moves away from me, but stays close as though to protect me. I didn't want his protection. Nothing could get rid of the sudden cold pit in my stomach that I had received when I saw Balthier had been watching us. "I mean, it's been only a week or more. Maybe two, I've lost count of the days." He leans a shoulder against the castle wall, arms crossed. "But really, wrapping yourself up in a boy you've only known for two days?" He shakes his head. "Didn't think you were that sort of a girl."

"And what kind of a girl am I?" I snap back. I don't want to snap, hell I'd do anything not to, but I do anyway. I'm so jealous of all those women, standing feet away, waiting for him to come back to them, he deserves to get slapped. "Why is it your business what I do?"

"It's my business because you're part of my pirating crew, and you know as well as I how unsafe people can be. You're in no position to give your heart up to anyone when you have dangerous criminals after you. Start doing that and I'll have to come save you again." He says all of this in an even and patient tone, as though he'd really rather not save me at all. I blink furiously, trying hard not to burst into angry tears.

"And what about you?" I explode, voice firing up in an angry outcry. "You and all those women? You flirting away as though it means nothing! What about her then! What about her? Can you suddenly care about women again? Or can't you! You jerk! Can't you see what you've got here?" I've never lost it like I did then. My voice screamed out over the night, over the music, over the people inside. I was sure everyone could hear me. Every fiber in my body shook, and it took every once of will power I had to not start crying. "You have no right to talk to me like that! No right to stick your face in my life!" Balthier looks at me out of the corner of his eyes. His face has become a little tenser, as though I struck a nerve or two, but also as though he's just seen something, like he was sizing me up. Phathe put his hand on my shoulder and I shrugged it off.

"I suggest you talk to me about my affairs else where, not when we have people listening. And besides, I know what I'm doing. I mean no harm in talking to these women."

"You just don't see the damage you're doing then, huh? Talk to one woman, get her affection and dump her like a ton of bricks for the next! Do you know how much that hurts?!" Balthier looks away, not out of shame though. We stand in silence, me fuming, Balthier staring at the moon, Phathe awkward beside me. Seconds snail by. Balthier sighs softly and shakes his head, standing upright.

"I'll leave you to your-who ever he is. I just didn't think you were like that." He waves a hand over his shoulder and departs to go inside. The dam breaks and my tears pour down over my cheeks, body racked with angry and bitter sobs. Phathe and I are silent as I cry, him not sure what to say, me not wanting him to say anything, hating him seeing me cry. I burry my face in my hands. What had I just done? What had I just said? Why had I kissed him? Why hadn't I told Balthier I was jealous as hell? Why couldn't I say those three little words to make him understand why I was the way I was? Make him see how scared I was to love again? All the things I could have and shouldn't have done run through my head, hating every bit of the situation I was in. Any hopes of winning over Balthier seemed like a lost cause now. A battle I couldn't win.

"So, that's him then?" Phathe says, walking over to the balcony ledge and leaning forward on it. "The guy you like." Feverishly, I dry my tears on my hands and nod a few times.

"Yeah." I say, voice still slightly choked up. "That's him."

"I'm sorry I pushed myself on you like that. I knew you didn't love me, but still I kept going." He shook his head. "At least he cares, right?" I laughed bitterly.

"Yeah right. He only thinks of me as some annoying kid who can't look out for herself. I'm nothing more than a kid sister." Phathe slowly shook his head.

"No, you're wrong. He cares. He worries about you. Otherwise he wouldnt come looking for you. Whether or not he loves you back, I dont know, but he does care."

"How can you be so sure? After all that, seeing us, he must really think I'm a floozy." I come to stand beside Phathe.

"I'm sure. Although I do not believe it is the love you seek, you are something to him. And being of some importance is better than none." Phathe touches my shoulder gently. "Go, you've had enough for one night. Talk to him in the morning. Cool down and tell him everything. You cannot be certain until you try."

"I guess not." I smile in thanks. "Thank you for that, and I'm sorry for all that I've done and how badly I've treated you. I didn't mean to-I mean, I didn't want it to go that far." I unclasp the golden chain from my neck. "Here," I offer it to him, " I think this would be better spent on a girl who actually treats you well."

"Keep it," He pushes my hand back to me. "It is yours. I want you to have it."

"Thanks," I say again. Our conversation is suddenly put to rest as a wild scream echoes from inside the ballroom.

"Help!!!" Some cries from the ballroom entrance way. "Help somebody please! Come quick!" The orchestra dies away and people stop dancing as the screams carry on, the woman yelling getting louder. "Hurry! There's a boy out here! He looks dead! Blood! So much Blood!" Phathe and I sprint into the ballroom as people begin to murmur and whisper amongst themselves, many starting to leave the ballroom after the frantic maid.

"A boy did she say?"

"Dead? Somebody's dead out there?"

"What's going on?"

"What was she screaming about?"

"Who could be doing such things at a time like this?" The confused voices filled the dance hall as we all piled out. Phathe and I dodged around people, trying to get to the head of the line. We broke out into the entrance hall and ran the length of the hall, me hitching my dress up around my ankles. People seemed frightened to go out of the ballroom, afraid of what was on the other side. Bloodshed after the Arcadian invasion was ill looked upon and kept out of their minds. Hearing about somebody lain out on the castle's doorstep was taboo to many. Any more suffering and pain was shunned and denied. Many did not dare leave the sanctuary of the dance floor.

The pair of us broke out into the night. A small crowd had gathered out on the palace lawn. I saw Vaan, Penelo, Basch, Fran, and Balthier all standing somewhere in the circle. Fran looks up as I sprint across the lawn, she beckons me over. Balthier stoops down and calls for someone to hurry up and bring bandages and a doctor. Vaan hurries off into the castle closely followed by Basch. I run to Fran's side and look down at the boy. The body was twisted grotesquely where it fell, arms and legs twitching and shaking as pain racked the him. Blood oozed onto the ground as something poked from the skin on it's back, legs, and arms, twitching slightly. The boy breathed softly, breath rasping and choked with blood, but his face was contorted in mad pain and he shook slightly, but not with cold. I focused on the face, my eyes tracing his features, so familiar. And then it hit me.

It was Larsa.


	28. Chapter 28

Sorry, but this ch. switches POVs. Changing it is hard since I wrote this so long ago I can't pick up my old thought process.

* * *

** Third Person POV **

Hours after the boy king was found on the front lawn, Balthier, back propped against the castle wall, stood outside unable to sleep. The moon hung in the sky, readying to set as the hours waned on and the sun demanded rising. Stars glinted in the sky, saying their good mornings as the sun slowly rose up out of the blackness. It would still be a good hour or longer before it was day, and hours more before anyone was up. That is, except for Balthier. The lone pirate had not gotten much rest from the previous night. Who would? But it was not only Fidel's stupidity or the dying king, it was what Fran had said and the fight after. The talk replayed itself over and over in the man's head, giving the tired mind no room for dreams. As he stands outside, watching the sun wake up and moon ready for bed, the night, once again, began to retell it's story.

** Balthier's memory **

"Would somebody hurry up and get a doctor?" I yelled over the gathering crowd. No one seemed to budge, and all the while the poor boy lost more blood. Larsa was not dead as that foolish maid had concluded, but he appeared to be at death's door. Vaan looked to me, worry all over his face. I gave a fervent nod of my head and off he ran, Basch following. I looked back to Larsa, his eyes just open, mouth moving slightly. My head had to tilt forward to pick up his words.

"I escaped-" Were the only two things he could say. Larsa appeared half mad and tormented by intense pain. I had seen the same thing in Fidel when that hyrbid was calling her its home, only Larsa was in a far worse state. Muttering incoherently, dribbling blood from his maw, and jerking every so often as his creature began to spring up from his skin. It was clear from his state that something had gone horribly wrong in the transformation and now the creature was tearing itself, and the boy, apart.

Being no doctor, I waited, I must admit rather feverishly, for a true surgeon to appear, all the while Larsa's state worsened. He cried, kicked, muttered, jerked about, and entire menagerie of movements and cries. So bad he became that I had to hold him down by the shoulders. His eyes rolled. A few others grabbed his legs and I shouted over the crowd again, yelling for someone to hurry up. But yelling only ever seems to make matters worse, as I have long since found out, and shouting now only made people more panic stricken. When a doctor did come people were slow to clear a path, and I became more agitated. The longer these sheep stood blindly, the worse Larsa became. Couldn't they see that?

We carried the bleeding and mangled child up stairs, into the infirmary, and there we were met by Al-Cid and his very lovely bride to be. Fran was with me now, and she and I explained his situation. Al-Cid's face only seemed to grow graver with each word I said and I took little comfort in that. Al-Cid never showed much worry, even when his own kingdom was in jeopardy, something I found odd about the man. I suppose his concern now expressed itself because this was a fellow king lying here, dying. It could very well be Al-Cid. That, and Larsa was a mere boy, too young to die and too young to rein over a kingdom as many say.

Nobody is allowed in to see his royal highness. Nobody comes out. I didn't expect them too. Outside the infirmary there were a few chairs, for waiting around I suppose, so I took a seat. The night was late, but I didn't want to sleep. More like I couldn't. Fran sits next to me.

"You seem troubled." She says immediately. I smirk. Fran knows me all too well. I don't know whether it's because she's viera or friend, but maybe both. "Tell me."

"I guess I'm worried about Larsa." I shrug and lean back in my chair. Fran gently shakes her head.

"It is not like you to worry about a king. You do not worry about Ashe at all." She had a point.

"How would you know?" I said lightly, turning to face her a little. A small smile crept across the viera's lips.

"Years of traveling with you has taught me such." She goes silent a moment as if gathering some sort of strength. "It is not Larsa. Somebody else worries you." She stressed the 'somebody' ever so slightly, and I lapsed into a pensive silence.

"It is not my business to meddle or worry. It's best I do not further myself in her business."

"Of whom do you speak?" She knew all to well. Why does she insist on pressing conversation I'd rather not bring up?

"You know who." I said quietly, almost muttering it. Fran looked at me out of the corner of her eyes, and nodded once.

"So maybe I do know. I saw her, and I saw you. I am more worried about you."

"Me? Well, I'm perfectly well off thank you. Tired, but nothing eight hours of sleep can't put an end to."

"That was not my meaning." Her voice didn't seem to appreciate my kidding about. I guess this wasn't the time for that. I looked away, all to knowing to what she wanted to hear.

"I know." I muttered. "But why is your concern directed to me? You know I can handle myself."

"I know. But you cannot handle others."

"Can't handle others?!" I looked at her with raised eyebrows. "Did you see me with all those women? I am a magnet for people if you haven't seen already. There must be something in me they like for so many of them to flock around me. I hardly had a moment of peace."

"They come to you blindly," She said, her voice calm and wise, "and only those who know you well enough to earn a little bit of your trust understand you are not who you think you are."

"Fran, you're not making any sense." I shook my head. That's the problem with the viera, you can hardly understand them when it comes down to something philosophical.

"You are not hearing what I am saying." She looked at me full in the face this time, no sideways glances. "You know what you can do to others. When you toy with them and then leave. And to those you have beside you, they flock, but in a different way. People crave to be part of your crew, your life, but you will have none of it. And yet you sit here speaking of leadership and charm, when really, you say you want none of that. But is that true? Do you want it or not? Or are you just afraid." There was a long pause. I couldn't say anything. What do you say? She was so upfront and cruel, I couldn't help but feel a little angry at her words.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Fran." I shook my head. "This has nothing to do with my problems right now."

"It has everything to do with your problems." She said with a slight snap in her voice. "She said the same thing. Her words hit you hard, but they were true."

"True? Who have I hurt in all of this? Who? There is no one who cares about me enough to worry over those I connect with. Maybe you Fran, you who has traveled with me since that day. But many, Vaan, Penelo, have come to terms with the man I am. The man I try to be and want to become."

"You know what you say is a lie. You have hurt others, you just poke your eyes so cannot see them, though you feel they are there."

"Just who? Who cares enough about me to worry?" Fran gave me a meaningful look.

"She loves you." Those words were the last words I ever wanted to hear. A chill ran down my spine. Love, I hated that word. That word, that feeling, was what had turned me to stone inside, and froze my heart over.

"What are you talking about? She hates me. Didn't you see her with that god forsaken boy? What, has she known him for two days and already they curl up in some dark corner. She is worse than me, I will tell you that. At least I do not passionately kiss the women I flirt with."

"She did it to get your attention. She wants you affection."

"Well, she certainly got my attention! But not the kind she wanted. I do not and cannot love anybody. Not after everything that has happened in the past. You know this better than anyone, Fran. I have no affection to give."

"So you say. But I also know that this girl is something to you. Somewhere inside you, you do care. Your eyes say that much clearly. You care enough to keep her from doing something stupid. Be it love or fatherly affection, only you know. But be ware of her heart. You do not want another you to exist, correct?" With that, Fran got up and left me. I continued to watch the place where she had been for a long while after the viera left, wondering if what she had said was true. Did that fool of a girl love me? I couldn't help but laugh a bit at the though. No. Not me. Not a pirate of the skies. Not the man who let his pregnant fianc die in a ship wreck. I would never allow two people's blood to be on my hands, that was for certain.


	29. Chapter 29

It was the day of our leaving, but it was merely morning so we weren't leaving just yet. Everyone was preparing for the journey across the sands to Gihram. Nobody was sure of what to expect. Was it a lone temple in the midst of a never ending dessert? Or was it an entire city devote to the gods and Occuria? It was anyone's guess.

Al-Cid set about to forming a guard team, just in case we met resistance on our way there and inside the temple. These sands were full of monster and fiend alike. The guard was of about fifty men, not too many by his standards, but far more than any of us had wanted or expected. Amongst them was Rosaria's soon to be queen, Jibrel. I thought it was odd that Al-Cid would bring his fianc along, but apparently she was a good shot and had skill with a blade to boot. In other words, she was a necessity.

I stood in the great hall, silently muttering a prayer to any god who would listen to get us through this journey in one piece. I had a horrible feeling for some reason, as though something terrible just might happen somewhere down the road. Whether it was this road or another one, I didn't know.

Larsa's state hadn't progressed at all. In the days after the disastrous ball, Larsa had become seemingly crazy, waking from the blackness of his mind in loud screams of terror. Only when he fainted again from pain did the cries subside. Fever and infection, far worse than my own, racked his body. I had not seen the young king since he was taken from the courtyard, but people who had seen him could only shake their heads and lapse into silence. Nobody believed he would live.

My heart was oddly heavy for the young king who I had not talked much with. I barely knew the boy, and yet I felt so moved and disturbed by all of this it was as though I had known him for years. As I slept at night, sometimes I thought I could hear his thoughts in my head, but I could never make his words out. They were muffled by the beating of a drum.

"Excuse me, Fidel? Do you have a moment?" Phathe interrupted my thoughts. I looked up, startled and saw him standing a little ways in front of me. I nod with a soft sigh.

"Yeah, sure. What's up?" Phathe looks a little nervous, but determined, puffing his chest out a little. It made me laugh, silent though. I don't want to be rude.

"Please," he says kneeling before me and taking my good hand, "let me be your knight."

"Come again?" I say, not understanding his meaning in the slightest. What did he mean by knight? Phathe takes a deep breath and stares me directly in the eyes.

"This journey is going to be difficult. You've not traveled these sands. I have. I know what to expect, and you dont. What's more, that hand of yours can't hold a blade. If something were to happen to you-I mean to say, I don't think it would be wise for you to travel unprotected."

"Thanks for our worry, but I can handle myself. I can't hide behind someone for all of my life. I need to learn to fight one handed and I can't do that if your standing there."

"But until you learn I will watch over you. You can't learn if you're dead." He stands up from his kneeling position. "I will teach you to fight one handed as well. A sparring partner. I won't baby sit you, I promise, but please, all princesses need a faithful knight, don't they?" His words moved me. Nobody ever spoke to me that way, and my resolve was breaking.

"Truthfully," Comes a voice from the stairs. We look over and see Balthier walking down towards us. "I think a gun would be a better fit. At least until you've mastered those daggers."

"A gun? I can barely shoot. You've seen me." I say. Phathe tightens his grip on my hand as Balthier walks over to us. I can tell Phathe is nervous and not to mention jealous in the presence of Balthier.

"I'll show you the ropes while he shows you how to fight with one hand. Let's face it," Balthier folds his arms, "if you want to hold your own, you can't go around without some sort of a plan." Phathe's face twitched a little. Balthier was stealing his thunder. "And accept his offer." He says nodding to Phathe. "You're going to need all the protection you can get."

"Am I?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Yes you are." Phathe says forcefully, hinting to Balthier that he should back the hell off.

"Meanwhile, I'll find you a suitable gun," Balthier ignores Phathe's tone,

"Think I can get a handle on a gun in time?" I take away my hand from Phathe to fold it across my stomach. Balthier didn't seem angry at me anymore. It was as if nothing had happened that night, but I had noticed he seemed to be avoiding me now and again. Did he know?

"You're looking at the best shot around. You'll be pulling a trigger with ease in no time."

"Excuse me," Phathe harshly interjected, unable to take Balthier anymore, "this wasn't any of your business was it? I didn't ask for you to come marching down those stairs and-" I interrupt his tirade.

"I'll let you be my knight." I say over him. He stops and looks at me.

"You-you will?" He immediately forgets Balthier. It was like quelling a troublesome child.

"Yes, I will. I will leave it up to you to teach me how to use a dagger and to protect me." I really didn't want his protection or his guidance, but if it would keep him off of Balthier's back, than I had too. I hated how Phathe seemed to be trying to get in the way of me getting Balthier. I already didn't know how much he valued me, considering all of my screw ups, and Phathe's meddling wasn't making it any easier.

"Thank you." Phathe's eyes sparkled. He lightly kissed my forehead. "I will go pick out a few suitable daggers for you milady. I swear to you t teach you all I know." He leaves at that, increasingly happy with himself.

"Well that settles that." Balthier comments lightly, scratching his nose.

"Settles what?" I say, turning to look at him. Balthier looks a little pleased with himself too.

"Nothing," he shakes his head, "he'll make a good knight for you. You should be thankful to have such a loyal friend."

"Should I be?" I can't help but grimace a little.

"I take it you find him a nuisance by the look on your face." I shrug, feeling a little guilty.

"He's sweet, but his sweetness would be better spent on somebody else. I often feel like I'm just toying with him." I fold my arms and sigh a bit.

"So you don't share his feelings?" I shake my head. "He'd be perfect for you though." I laugh.

"Seriously? You're joking." Balthier shakes his head.

"You know me, I don't joke about this sort of thing. Just give the boy a chance. He mustn't be stupid to pick a girl like you." I blush. A girl like me? Ha. That was a load of bull. All I did was hurt him. I hated myself for that. But Balthier continued on. "You'd be surprised at how much you really care about him. Just give him a chance." I wanted so bad to tell Balthier that I wanted no one. No one but him. I hated him thinking that Phathe and I would make a good couple. I hated Balthier not understanding that my heart was solely his. But all I did was nod, play along, accept his advice. That wasn't what he was saying a few nights ago though. A few nights ago Balthier was totally against Phathe. Would Balthier disapprove of him if I told him about the river and my swim? Would he grow angry with the boy for watching me swim, naked? Would he be the one to protect me then? I open my mouth to say something, but my voice is lost as someone from above shouts down at us.

" Miss Fidel! You are there right? Where is that girl!" Balthier and I look up to see one of the nurses tending Larsa, running about like a hen who lost her head.

"She's here, with me." Balthier calls to the nurse.

"Enough courting for now! Balthier, send her up here! The lord Larsa cries for her." Larsa wants me? I didn't think he knew me well enough for needing me at any point, nor did I think him sane enough to request anyone. Balthier pushes me a little. I almost don't want to go. I don't want to see him lying there, like I had been not so long ago.

"Hurry," Balthier whispers to me. I sprint up the stairs.

* * *

The nurse hurries me into Larsa's room, pushing me inside rather brusquely. 

"Sorry, dear." She says, patting my shoulder a little sympathetically. "But this is the most we've gotten out of him so far." I shake my head like it's nothing and whisper my understanding to her. She bustles out, softly shutting the door to Larsa's room behind her.

I stand awkwardly in the doorway, not sure if he's still awake or well enough to know it's me. He's only seen me once or twice before after all. I decide to walk to his bedside and wait a few moments to see if he notices I'm there. Chances are, if he didn't notice the rude entrance, he won't notice me now.

I cross the well sized, bright white, and very clean room. A large window sits left of my, drapes pulled tightly shut over it. The floor is crisp, clean, and tiled. My feet echo as I step one foot after the other. Larsa's bed is on the other side of the room, across from me. It was a large four-poster bed in which he lay, clean white sheets neatly tucked ing along his sides. One hand sat atop his blankets, a thin IV line going from wrist to bag of fluid. The young king was heavily bandaged. I had to stop a moment. If I hadn't seen Larsa lying there that night, I would never have guessed it was him. Apparently the creature in him had continued to tear away even after they had began to take it out. Even still, I heard they weren't even able to get all of it out. He would have died if they had continued the surgery. Besieged by fever, scarring, and a broken and half paralyzed body, lord Larsa was seemingly on death's door. His face, where bandage was not, was swollen and red. Thick cloth wound around his head, so tight I thought it must be holding his brain in. His body would twitch every now and then as the creature moved, but Larsa didn't seem to notice, nor feel the creature writhing. And then, one solitary eye opened, the left, the only one not hidden behind a bandage.

"They say I can never walk again," his voice whispers to me, "nor fight. But I can tell they lie. Walking and fighting will not be the only things I cannot do." I finish my walk to his bedside and sit down, unable to think of anything to say. I watch the sides of his mouth twitch, almost as if he was smiling, but it was more convulsive and uncontrolled looking. I shuddered slightly, remembering the pain and fever. The blackness. "You wonder why I called you." He states, voice strained with effort. I could tell this hard for him, not so much emotionally, but physically. I nod in answer. "So you have not surmised my intentions?" I pause, thinking, and then shake my head.

"I know why." I say. Larsa nods softly and goes quiet, gathering strength, breathing heavily, air filling his lungs in great shuddering rasps, the tubes going down into his lungs doing next to nothing to ease his breathing.

"I've prayed," he begins again, "to find an escape from all of this. The pain, the suffering, and the black void. Sleep is no friend." Again he musters strength. More twitching starts in his legs, a little stronger, but they die fast. "Sometimes," he rasps at me, "I think I can still hear her. I mean her . It's as though she's part of me now, watching me." I shiver, knowing what he means. "But I also hear the faint beating of a heart, not mine though. It's heart. This things heart. I fear I will never be rid of the sound, of the muffled thoughts." He lapses into silence, sweat brewing on his forehead. His left eyes closes, face contacting with pain.

"Don't push yourself." I say, coaxing him to stop speaking. He shakes his head a little and opens an eye, this time determined.

"I did not call you hear so I could faint and be lost again. I called you so I had reassurance. Reassurance that I was not alone."

"Don't worry, your not." I smile, weakly. I watch his face tense up again, but he doesn't close his eye.

"Although I cannot feel from the waist down, I can still feel it in my arms and neck, running the length of my spine. It's half dead, thank the gods, so I pray it does not move to my brain. I did not drag myself here to be a lost cause." He breathes a few times, out of breath. "It's control is weakening, but I fear that is because my own body is weakening. She said that they are parasites and cannot live without a host, correct?" I watch as a small bittersweet smile crosses his swollen lips. "But if I die, I shall not be sorry, but relieved. I fear death, yes, but do I shun it, no. When I am lost to the darkness of my mind, sometimes I get so frightened I want to die. I beg for death. I want to will myself to die sometimes. People can do that. Just believe in death and then they no longer are. I wanted to disappear, just like them." A few tears shine in his eyes, his voice breaks. The fear and horror on his face makes me want to cry as well. I knew what that was like, the blackness, the voices, and most of all, how alone I was. I too had pleaded for death. "But I take heart and hold on. Sometimes, I can hear your drum, and that makes me feel less alone."

"My drum?" I say, a little perplexed. "I no longer dream and walk in that void. How can you still hear me?"

"You and I are connected. Although you remain hume in your mind, you will never be hume again. Your blood bleeds hybrid, as does mine."

"It's gone though! My burden left my body a while ago. See," I hold up my limp arm in my good one, "it's dead, just like your legs." Larsa's eyes sparkle, but he doesn't say anything, not for a long while. I feel like child begging at an adult for answers, answers that aren't true.

"I am sorry, Fidel." He says after minutes have passed. "I truly am. But neither of us is alone. Give me that, that comfort to take into the darkness. Give that to me, and maybe I will not beg for death, so long as I hear your drum." Larsa's voice faded so softly I almost didn't hear the last words he whispered. His eye closed, face relaxed, and he slipped away, away to a place I never want to go again.

"I promise." I whisper to his sleeping state, afraid of what exactly I was swearing an oath to.


	30. Chapter 30

Larsa's words haunted me all day, a small pit of ice bitterly left to sit in my stomach. What did the boy mean? My drum? I craved to know the answer, but only found more questions when I tried to answer. Forced to put those words from my head, I headed to the courtyard for Phathe's instructions on how to properly use a dagger. As though I didn't know already. The lesson didn't produce much bounty. I was far too clumsy, and he was far too naive. It appeared as though he wasn't at all familiar with a blade. His handling on it was all wrong and awkward, and when I told him so, he said I was just not used to this kind of grip. I bit my tongue back and decided to let him get his fingers cut off. He was far too stubborn for his own good.

We sparred around a little, and I slipped back into my warriors blood, blood given to me by my old masters. Phathe seemed a little taken aback at my skill and had to step his game up a little. I made sure to aim for his hand, positioned on the handle so awkwardly I thought he might snap his fingers off. Eventually, he understood and allowed me to show him the proper technique. I told him each dagger was different, and swords and daggers may be in the same ratio, but you cannot hold a dagger like a sword. Daggers weight little to nothing and so tight and deathly grips were not needed. Loose grips made a better match due to the fact that a dagger was stealthy and quick to pierce. In the end, I was the teacher and he the student. The lesson did little to ease my tension, quickly building.

Next was Balthier's gun slinging lesson. He had wandered into town and picked out the best gun he could for me, the one he thought best adept at meeting my skills. I must admit, he had a fine eye. My hand fit the trigger, finger comfortable where it rested. What was key, according to Balthier, was not to let the gun be just a gun. Like any weapon, it had to be part of the wielder. Where I pointed the gun, that's where the bullet would land, so aim was essential, where a dagger had a wider range in which to strike with slashes, not just jabs. With a gun, you only had one chance to hit the target, and missing could mean your life. I took target practice very seriously. After a few misses, I was hitting my target, or at least somewhere in that area. Although I hardly hit the bull's-eye, okay, never, a hit with a gun, unlike a dagger, could not be shaken easily. A shot to the leg could cost a man his walking ability for a while if the shooter inflicted enough pain, which was almost a guarantee. The bullet could break bone, split muscle, and cripple a person so easily it was mind numbing. When I was competent enough, Balthier dismissed me.

I felt reluctant to leave, but he seemed rather urgent about it. I had given him no grievance, no complaint, all the while he had taught and I listened. I only learned, and yet he seemed very abrupt in letting me go. If anything, his abruptness only made me feel worse. As of now, the last thing I wanted was to be alone. Larsa had scared me, making me feel ostracized, unlike his claim. His words had stirred something deep inside of me, a realization that I was not like the people around me, although my outside appeared to be exactly like everybody else's. The blood in my veins was different. But still, I couldn't really grasp that idea, that I wasn't hume, that I was of an entirely new species. I felt no different, talked no different, understood no different, laughed and loved as everyone around me. How could I not be hume?

And here I sat, at my bedroom window, watching the hours pass by, not coming out for dinner. I couldn't eat. I felt so disgusted, disturbed, and depressed I couldn't eat anything. I lean over to the window latch and push it open. Immediately, the wind billows into the room, upsetting a few papers, making the drapes blow, quickly filling the room with the fragrance of water, flowers, and evening sky. It was the smell of life, of a warm summer night that soothed the soul. And slowly, my worries were lost in the dying sun light. The world, right now, seemed at peace, and I wonder, how can anything this beautiful still go on. Still shine upon the world as though everything were fine, and why nobody noticed it. I hadn't really, not until now that was.

Far below, disrupting the tranquil silence, Al-Cid's guard began to ready, piling themselves upon Chocobos, getting weapons loaded, and dawning on armor. Soon I would have to join them and this fairy tale would be a memory, a small bit of hope implanted on my brain forever. Whether I was hume or not didn't change that. I felt satisfied. No matter if I forgot, remembered, whatever, this moment had happened, this past hour of dreaming into the sky had happened. The gods knew that, and that was all I needed. Somebody to remember, even if I didn't.

There was a sudden knock on my door. I jumped in surprise, falling back down to earth from my cloud, and stand up shakily.

"Y-yes?" I say, voice quavering in the air. I fumble a little as I hastily latch up the window, saying, "come in." as I do so. The door swings wide. Phathe and few other guards stand there, and my knight nods at me.

"Get your gun." He says. "Time to go." His voice is grave and holds worry. I can tell it's his first time outside of the castle, and I wonder if he's having seconds thoughts as I hang the gun at my waist, putting the dagger I was given on the other hip.

"'Kay-" I give a brisk nod and walk out into the hall. A guard shuts the door with a soft click behind us, and the small party moves downstairs to the lawn, saying nothing as we do so.


	31. Chapter 31

We left as the sun hung low in the sky, sending brilliant shades of pinks, golds, oranges, and dusty blues over the heavens which gave way to inky blackness halfway. Stars glinted, a moon began to show it's face, and all of Ivalice seemed to hold its breath. Not a sound. Nobody seemed to talk, we were all busy with getting our rides ready, the many gray chocobos able to see by star and moonlight. Fran went around, giving the commanders a magic light to hold, giving them the instructions to not let it drop.

I fingered the gun at my hip a little, tempted to try aiming it at something, but didn't. This place was far too crowded for target practice. Suppressing a wide yawn, I pat my bird gently, and it coos softly. Phathe insisted that I ride with him incase anything bad were to arise in the sands. I told him if something did pop up, riding two on a bird would only slow us down. My point made, he gave in, but only if I promised to tether myself to his bird. Honestly, this whole 'knight' thing was getting on my nerves. I planned on riding off before he could find me again and avoid him as best as I could.

To better disguise myself, I tie a black cloth around my head, hiding my shock of red hair, hoping it was enough. But all the same, I felt guilty.

"Ladies, knights, and lords," A voice of a high commander shouts out to the knight. Any thing whether it be barely audible side chitchat or preparing stops immediately. "I thank you all for coming on this journey, but none more so that our to-be king, Al-Cid, who rides with us this night, as does his fair lady." Next to the commander, astride chocobo's clad in golden and rich armor, sat Al-Cid and Jibrel. Jibrel dressed as one of the boys, dawning the knightly blue armor and long sword, a helm over her mane of golden red hair, tucking it up inside. I would hate to meet this woman on the battle field. Her eyes burned brilliantly as she surveyed her men, the fires of war deep within her dark pupils.

"He speaks truth." Al-Cid picks up, "We are encouraged and spirited by your support. However, do not let that courage turn into arrogance. This journey, by night, into the desert is not to be taken lightly." He looks around to each of us, so many, astride our mounts, stiff backed and ready, listening, intent. "Be on guard and remember what can happen if you tread with a clumsy foot. And I pray you keep his lord Larsa in your mind. We march for him, the Lady Ashe, and our fallen brothers, lost to this war. We are of the few remaining empires still standing. Keep this in mind as we ride." The speech was far from cheery, but it was necessary. Any illusion or disbelief could cost us the mission. This knowledge was best frank raw.

I swallow hard, heart beginning to pick up in beat. The bird beside my nips at my shoulder, a little pissed that I had stopped stroking it to listen to the talkers. I pat the bird once and sling myself upon it. The party begins to move forward, people hurriedly packing up their few last items in the dying sunlight.

We rode out of a back entrance in the large wall surrounding the city, the gate well disguised. It was meant as a secret escape in case of emergency. By the looks of the vines clawing their way up the iron bars, towering into the heavens above, it hadn't been used in many years. The gate moaned in metallic and rusty anguish as it rose back up into the wall, vines and earth falling down in large clumps. The birds back away, nervous as the debris falls. Al-Cid is the first to move, his wife-to-be following him. We gradually leave the castle, the gates closing slowly behind us, vines twisting back into their rightful places once it was down as though it had never moved. I watched, startled, as they did so. I've never seen vines grow so fast, but they were most likely magical, or at least had a mind of their own. A knight taps my shoulder and I ride on with the small army.

Hours drift by, moon hanging high, and a cold wind blew. I forgot how quickly the desert could cool in the dead of the night. I shiver, stomach groaning with hunger as I regret not eating dinner. The initial excitement and dread had worn off to tired resolve. My body slumped over the chocobo's, eyes blinking heavily as the hours waned on. It would be very unprofessional to let myself fall asleep while everyone else stayed awake, every knight on the alert. As of now, I couldnt care less if we were attacked. I was too tired to care.

My eyes wandered to the erect backs of the riders, all of them wide awake, or at least really good at faking it. I was unconsciously looking for Balthier's back. I hadn't yet spotted him amongst the riders. Not that I had really been looking for him. I was more interested in keeping away from Phathe who had been looking for me. So far I had succeeded. But now that I was half dead, I didn't have it in me to run away anymore. I just wanted to sleep. My eyes lazily drift from one person to the next until I think I can see him, sitting there, beside Fran. Yeah, that's him. He's holding a light and I can see his face illuminated in the darkness, shadows flickering. I want him to see me and come back to ride with me, becoming hopelessly jealous of Fran. I was his pirating partner crew too, why didn't he confide and talk to me like he did with Fran? Resentment began to build up and I look away for a few seconds, but quickly glance back. I had to keep an eye on him. What if he saw me and waved? Smiled? Called to me? How would I know? How would I know if he tried something with Fran like did all the other women? I know I was probably acting stupid, Fran had told me flat out that she could never love Balthier, but still, that didn't mean he couldn't fall for her. I had to make sure he didn't. My heart beat in my throat, heart pounding as I ached to ride up next to him, but couldn't, too embarrassed for some reason. So badly did I want to show off, do something to gain his approval, impress him, make him see how mature and grown up I was. I began to fantasize about being in the temple and being surrounded by undead or large dragons, finding myself engulfed by flames or at the point of a sword. In the end I always killed whatever it was I fought, alone and trapped, but not before nearly dying right as Balthier came around the corner, looking for my frantically. He would carry me out of the temple and hold me, arms strong and protective, slowly healing me with gentle fingers, and slowly they would glide up my body and stroke my neck, his face coming down slowly to mine. Each time I pictured us kissing I would feel myself squirm on the inside, embarrassed and fluttery, but loving every second of it.

In my day dreams, I didn't notice myself falling asleep until I was half out of the saddle and quickly tipping over, headed for the ground below. I didn't notice until the last possible second that I had fallen asleep and was falling over until I was in the process of the fall. I gasped, tensing for pain, but a firm hand grabbed my collar.

"There you are," said a soft and tired and scornful voice above me. It was Phathe. "I told you to stay by me."

"Sorry," I whisper at him, rubbing my drooping eyes. His voice went from slightly disapproving to gentle as he saw my tired state.

"You're tired."

"Thank you captain obvious." I say groggily, straightening myself out a little, readjusting my headband. His hand tugs on my sleeve a little and I look at him. "What?"

"Put your head on my shoulder. You'll sleep better if you're balanced." He brings his bird closer to mine, offering his shoulder up as a pillow. I stare at him, raising an eyebrow.

"That wouldn't be fair to you or anyone else. They all got'ta stay up don't they?" I rub a little sleep from my eyes and wipe away the oil from my skin a bit. I hate having oily skin. I would get terrible break outs when I was around twelve or so, but they've slowed down a bit since then. Thank the gods.

"So? They don't have a friend as good as me. Come on, it's fine."

"What about you? You're tired."

"Screw me. I'm just concerned with you being okay. I don't have a dead arm. It's more important for you to be energized." He pats his shoulder as though he were fluffing it up. I laugh a little and nod.

"You better not let me slip." I say and put my head on his shoulder. He fastens an arm around my waist, holding me there tightly, and keeping me warm against the cold wind blowing.

"You have nothing to fear, milady." Our talks lapse away, and my eyes grow heavy and I close them. In my mind I begin to wonder if he has the same thoughts about me, the same daydreams, that I have about Balthier. The same fantasies about long dark tunnels and passionate kisses. It makes me shiver a little. Having somebody else think that about me, anyone besides Balthier, was a little creepy. What kind of things would Phathe think about? How far would we go in our kisses? My mind began to picture, and my body cringe at the thoughts. I can feel myself growing embarrassed and I quickly tell myself to shut up. Thinking these things wasn't right. People would think I was weird for having such thoughts. If anyone knew what went on in my mind-the prying images and taboo thoughts, the kissing growing heated and more passionate, more in-depth, quickly becoming something I really didn't want to think about or picture, they would think ill of me. It was enough to make people think I was a monster pervert. Did anyone else think these things?

I'm asleep and dreaming quickly, the beat of the chocobo's walking and gentle pounding of my heart never leaving me as I slept uneasily. There was something about being outside in the blackness, being vulnerable, that I didn't like. I suddenly felt very much alone and exposed. A feeling I had very much not been feeling a few seconds ago.

The pains in my empty stomach faded, as did the tightness of Phathe's arm, and I slipped away to dream. Or at least what I thought was a dream. Once more, I felt the velvety blackness of a void pulling at me, the dark abyss I had been trapped in for days as fever and pain filled my body. I could see the dark hole below me as I stared down, hoping I wouldnt fall from the height I was at. It was as though I was a bird in the sky, but my wings were clipped and I was hanging my feeble ropes, and I stare down into the precipice below, black and endless. I feverishly feel the strain in my body as the ropes begin to break, a loud tearing sound filling my ears. My throat catches as fear fills me, legs flailing as I try to fly, fly away into my dreams, but I can't move any further than the ropes have me. As the last thread holding them together snaps, I tense, and drop. My body plummets hundreds and hundreds of feet to the ground below, stomach on air in my mouth, head spinning, body twisting around, eyes watering as air hits them, drying them out. And from my mouth utters a scream, piercing the night.

I jerk awake, suddenly an unexpectedly. Phathe had been shaking me.

"Fidel, up!" He whispers in my ear. I look up at him, heart still beating from my fall. "We're here. It's dawn. Quick, get your bird going and I'll get mine."

Slowly, I sit upright, blinking, covered in cold sweat. Just off in the distance the sun begins to peak, illuminating the large and crumbling outer wall of a the giant temple. Falling milky white stone, cracked and covered in dead vines, stands against the horizon, the large western ocean behind it below the large cliffs in which the temple stood upon. Hundreds of feet, perhaps a mile or more long, the walls went, and inside was the temple with large steps, plants growing up from in-between cracks in the ground. I could imagine the sand, the large statues devoted to the gods, and old and falling down domes in which the old priests used to live when they were not in meditation. Al-Cid had told us stories he had heard from his grandfather about the ancient temple. In it's day it had been a grand and popular place to pray and speak with the god of rain and life herself. Al-Cid had said that only the very lucky could speak with the god, but it was recorded down when somebody did get a visit from her.

Al-Cid had also told us that it was believed her priests still lived there, centuries, maybe even aeons later, still worshipping her. He told us of wanders leaving the city to find the temple and not returning. His tales instilled fear in my heart. I hoped there were no such priests and that those wanderers had found their deaths in some other way.

Our birds rode up to the temple's front archway, still standing, the way into the temple once inviting, now foreboding. A small bird flew over head, chirping madly as the sun sprang up. The inside was much the way I imagined, with a large courtyard, a hundred or more feet deep before giving up to the large and bulky stone steps rising upward to the temple's front doors, shut. Images of the gods, weather beaten and forgotten, were engraved in the temple's sides. Small shelters, circular and windowless were carved from the stone wall, jutting from the sides as barnacles to a sea cliff do.

"Do not venture into those stone dwellings." Jibrel said, voice carrying around the courtyard, bouncing from wall to temple as she enters. "They are not for us to enjoy."

"What are your orders?" A commander asks, voice shouting out.

"Keep your voice down." Fran says, her voice wary and drifting. I watch as Balthier leans to her and whispers something to her. She nods and he leans away, appearing uneasy.

"We rest." Al-Cid says. "Whatever maybe in that temple cannot be faced with tired troops. We'll sleep for a few hours first."

"And you," Jibrel turns to the commander who spoke, "shall lead the first watch. Halfway, an hour and a half, you wake me and I'll take over."

"Are you sure?" Al-Cid asks her. She nods.

"If anything were to attack us, it would not be now when everyone is awake, but when we're all asleep and stupid. I want to be awake to meet anything that will come at us." Al-Cid nods.

"You will not be alone." He says to her and she smiles slightly, a kindly smile, something I would not expect from such a woman.

The party begins to break up into a few watches of about seven people each. The rest of us were told to get some rest. I dismount from my chocobo only when I know it's safe to do so, and flop down in the sand, still shaken from my dream, reluctant to sleep anymore incase I wake up in that place. Phathe dismounts and unloads a bag. My chocobo promptly folds its legs under it and sits on the ground, closing its eyes. I lean my back against it, the feathers soft. Phathe tosses me some bread.

"You weren't at dinner." He comments. "And didn't think to bring food I noticed." I smile sheepishly.

"Got water though." I say, trying to sound proud.

"That's something I guess." He flops down in the sand next to me and shuts his eyes. "I'm taking a rest for a while if you don't mind."

"Go right ahead." I say, feeling wide awake. I eat, and watch everyone settle, unpacking small pitch-up tents to shield them from the sun that was quickly coming up. Smart thinking. I get up and root around in Phathe's stuff. Sure enough a pitch-up tent was packet neatly away. Collapsible tent poles for sticking into the ground were folded over and a long piece of white cloth was folded over into a small six by six square. I put up the tent poles, four of them, into the ground. They stood about five feet up and six feet apart, just long enough to get the cloth over them. I tied each corner of the sheet around the poles, taught. It wasn't much of a shelter, but at least the sun wouldn't beat on us so heavily. A sea breeze blew, salty scent of ocean waves carried on the air. The smell lulled many to sleep, but not me. I didn't dare rest for fear of that abyss. Unconsciously I drew closer to Phathe for protection, protection from the one thing he couldn't save me from.

The chocobo sighed heavily and I finished my bread, the hungry monster in my belly stopping it's angry droning. I drank a bit of water and got comfortable.

I watched as people settled around me, sleeping already or very near it. The night had been long and cold and now the sun was rising and the heat began to bake us. My arms were crossed over my stomach, dead arm under good, and legs drawn up to my chest. Again I lost myself in thought, forgetting the sweat slowly beginning to run down my face as an hour or more went by. The sides of my mind began to ooze like half melted butter, slipping and sliding around in the hazy wave to tiredness quickly over coming me. I blinked dully, yawning, and letting my eyes drift shut.

As my thoughts began to draw to a close, becoming illogical and dreamlike, a cry echoed around the courtyard. Nobody stirred at first, far to tired to make a move or acknowledge the sound as anything but dream. Again the cry sounded, drawing me from my sleepy shell. A third time it rang out, and I alerted, as did many others around, murmuring, confused. The cry was inhuman as I listened a fourth time, a wild high pitched shrieking coming from somewhere far away. At first I thought it had been someone screaming, but the more I would listen, the less human it became. It sounded like a half dead wild animal, piteously wailing as its life slowly drained away. I quickly scramble from the makeshift tent, standing, one of the many to face the sky. There, above me, hundreds of feel away a black thing swooped down low, making the terrible scream. Behind it flocked a few others, pure night black blobs against the rising sun. Phathe hurried to my side, wiping sweat and sleep from his eyes.

"What's going on?!" He says, alarmed, trying feverishly to see the black creatures descending upon us. I shake my head and dive back under the tent, hurrying to find the first weapon I can get my hand around. I pull up the gun Balthier gave me and am out of the tent as fast as I can. Just as I surface, the first creature lands, gracefully swooping down onto the temple steps, it's fellows not far behind. The creature lands, not staggering even once as it touches beaten stone. From here I can see the back of it is hunched over, like an old crones, but it stands far taller than any man here, a head taller than Fran even. A billowing cloak drapes over the creature looking more like shadow sown together to make cloth. From it's back sprout leathery black wings, at least ten feet across or more. The strange creature tucks it's wings into it's side, and they disappear into the folds of the cloak as though they were made of the same material. The creatures arms are pulled into it's chest, gnarled and skeletal hands just appearing from behind wispy cloak sleeves, and from the hood protruded a long beak, five foot or longer, sharp and pointed, a dusted gray. I shiver. Never in all my days had I seen such a Grim Reaper, the image of death itself, and never would I have guessed a more evil looking beast could live in all of Ivalice. Phathe draws a little closer to me, hand by his sword.

The creature hisses audibly, even from this distance, and paces back and forth as the other winged beasts fly down, and nobody moved a muscle.

"Who," their leader, the first to land and the largest, hisses, "dares-s to defy on our s-sacred ground after s-so many millennia? S-speak." It commands. Al-Cid steps forward, his bride-to-be next to him, her sword drawn.

"I do." He says evenly, sunglasses glinting in the sun. "And is there a problem with our being here?"

"Yes-s." It spits. The creatures behind it snap their beaks in anger, a loud clicking sound filling the courtyard. The chief bird being raises an arm to silence them.

"Would you like to explain our crime? I see no problem in coming here." Al-Cid readjusts him glasses.

"No problem?" The sharp harsh sound like wheezing laughter comes from the black robed thing. "Child of hume, long s-since it has-s been s-since the days-s in which your kind has-s paid tribute to our god. Years-s ago you worshiped as we, Nargathe Priests, but thos-se years-s are gone. When you left, s-so did your faith." Clicks followed in agreement.

"Let us just say," Al-Cid says, coming a little closer to the creature, "those times have once again changed. We seek your god for the world is in jeopardy." More hissing and wheezing laughter.

"You think we do not know of this? Our god speaks-s to us-s, and we lis-sten. Long have we known of the war brewing amongs-st the hume rac-ce. And only now, in times-s of need do you s-seek the shade of a god." The Priest's voice began to grow in anger, becoming louder and harder to understand, the clicking of beaks and faint screeches not making it any easier to understand. "You wish to now s-seek our aid? Curs-se you to the under world we do hume. S-s-suffer forever."

"That all aside," Al-Cid says, unfazed, "we still require to meet with your god. The future of this planet depends on us."

"Wrong, damned child. _ Your _ future is-s in jeopardy, not ours-s. A world without faith does-s not des-s-serve life." The bird creature spouts out a long and wild cry, it's voice flooding out to make everyone around cringe. It was like finger nails dragging on a chalk board, taking their idle time.

"But what about," Al-Cid says once the cry has died away, "those who pretend to be gods? Those people we fight want to be gods, like your god, and create a new race. They butcher the name of the gods. How can you put up with that?" I can tell he's hit a point. Seething and bubbling anger pours off the Nargathe who begin to emit loud anguished cries of misery and scorn.

"They make mockery of those we s-s-serve! We will not s-stand for s-such inc-colence!"

"And neither will we," Al-Cid is gaining strength now, "for you see, we fight for the same things. A free Ivalice and the name of the gods rightly restored. The more they call themselves gods, the less Ivalice will worship them. You as servants must know this."

The creatures begin to mutter amongst themselves, talking it soft hisses, and I cannot tell if they watch us as they do so. I see them face us, but cannot tell where their eyes fall. It frightens me.

"What is-s your plan, child of hume?" The chief says, once he has done clicking and hissing with his fellows.

"Our men seek to find enlightenment from your god, a way to beat these desecrators. Only if you allow us to meet with this god may we end this." More talking and clicking. I stroke the side of the gun with a nervous finger.

"If you only mean to s-speak with our god, you may. But in a s-small group only. You will only have an hour. For every ten minutes-s you are late, one of your men will be killed. Hear our warning child of the hume, if you disrespect our god in anyway, act as-s the king you onc-ce shall be, your flesh is-s mine to feas-st on. Make your party, and make has-ste. We may yet change our minds-s-s."


	32. Chapter 32

The deep set darkness was oppressive as our small party entered the temple. All I could see was the green of sunlight turning black, not making it any easier in figuring out which way to go. I lumber a bit, feet shuffling forward. In my disoriented state, I accidentally bumped into somebody, nearly making both them and I fall over. I mutter an apology, blushing furiously in the darkness as Balthier's voice answers. I only wish we had fallen over now.

The priests only allowed ten of us to enter and together we decided it would be Al-Cid, Jibrel, Fran, Balthier, Vaan. Penelo, Basch, me, Phathe and one other knight, captain Kiesh.

From beside me I hear Fran mutter a few words, words I cannot understand, and a small flame erupts into existence. I blink a few times, eyes blinded by the powerfully white and brilliant flame.

"This should guide our way. Pray we do not encounter foes all the same." Fran says.

"I wouldn't mind an easy way through this place. Mark my words." Balthier comments.

The sides of the walls dance in the flickering shadow, our black outlines elongated and deranged looking. The smell of mildew and clay made a millennia ago or more fills the air, thick and cloying. Cracks in the low and claustrophobic ceiling often have vines and roots hanging through them, cutting through the ancient writing scribbled all over the walls.

"Not much breathing room in here." Vaan comments and Penelo vigorously nods, arms folded protectively over herself.

"Well, standing in one spot is not going to help our situation." Al-Cid tugs on Jibrel's arm as he says this. "Careful where you point that thing in here." He says, indicating the sword in her hand.

"You don't need you to tell me to be careful." She says, sheathing it all the same. "Look, let's just get moving."

"An excellent plan." Balthier says, immediately taking the lead. Al-Cid, to my surprise makes no comment to this, but let's Baltheir usurp his position for the moment. I guess, all things considered, if someone were to die it would be better it be Balthier rather than the soon-to-be-king, as much as I hated to admit it.

We moved down deeper into the temple, a ways down the hallway which was gradually becoming tighter and tighter until we had to walk in a single filed line. Twice I felt my foot catch on something on the ground, be it stone or plant, and twice Phathe had to catch my arm.

After what seemed an age, and I prayed it wasn't, we reached the foot of a large winding staircase that spiraled upward to some unknown floor above.

"Mind your step." Balthier calls to us. "These stairs don't look as though they want much tread."

"I know I would not if I were that old." Al-Cid answers back. Balthier takes a tentative step forward, testing out his weight before going up the first stair.

"Seems to be alright." Fran passes him the white fiery orb without comment, and I watch as Basch nervously fingers his axe. I can see the glimmer of anxiety in his eyes, eager to leave this place, but not for fear of his own life. Basch was no coward.

The ten of us began the ascent to the upper chambers, not knowing what was beyond the spiral stair case which lead to a door about a hundred or more feet above our heads. The stone felt solid and harmless enough beneath my feet, but I really couldn't tell. I'm no rock expert and sure as hell don't pretend to be one. By the time we were half way up, my thighs burned in protest and my muscles began to grow increasingly sore all over. I didnt let on though. Not like I need more people to fuss over me, but I was looking forward to reaching the top of the stairwell.

Minutes seemed to snail by, and when we finally reached the top, I seemed to be the only one suffering at all. I hadn't slept all that well or really eaten much of anything, which was pretty stupid considering the job we were put to do. Hopefully I could hold out a little longer.

Balthier approaches the door, a large image of a star worn away to barely scratches was carved into the dark stone. At the sky pirate's touch, the door slid open, rock grating on rock. I didn't notice I was holding my breath until we stepped into the room. The area in which we entered was large, torches lining the square walls having sprung into life as the door opened. In the middle of the room was a large circle sunk into the ground about eight inches deep, a pool of still water, as clear as newly fallen rain water. The air inside the room was cold and damp, making me shiver. The ceiling was low, seven feet high or so and glistening as the water reflected off of the ceiling, making me feel as though I was underwater. Ocean blue orbs were stuck in the walls every so often, catching the light of the torches in an eerie way. From each wall lead a tunnel, winding off into darkness, four in total, one side, the east, sporting two.

"What now?" Vaan asks. "Seems like we're stuck."

"Depends by what you mean of stuck." Al-Cid answers, walking over to the basin of shimmering ice water. "There are words at the bottom of this, but I do not speak what it means."

"Do you think Fran could?" Penelo asks, voice shaking in the air.

"Perhaps." Fran says, walking over to the basin and kneeling beside it. Basch closes the doors behind us, the solid stone screeching in protest. Phathe stands behind me, face as grim as I've ever witnessed it. "Aye," Fran announces after a few seconds of study, "I can read this, but it is not a happy message at that." She looks up grimly at us for a moment. "It appears as though we may only choose on tunnel in this labyrinth."

"Labyrinth?" Basch says, coming over to stand behind Fran, face reflected in the pool.

"They certainly don't want to make this easy for us, do they?" Balthier bitterly comments, coming to join Basch and Fran.

"It would appear not." Fran turns back to the message.

"What do you mean one tunnel?" The knight Kiesh pipes up. Fran is silent a moment, reading on.

"They mean," she answers after reading a ways down the paragraph, "that once a path is chosen, you may not turn back. I assume they speak of the tunnels. It appears as though once chosen, the rest of the tunnels seal themselves off, but how it does not say."

"Can we leave the tunnels if they're sealed off?" Jibrel ponders, folding her arms. Al-Cid puts a hand on her shoulder which she shrugs off to come and kneel by the pool, eyes a blaze yet again.

Fran shakes her head. "It does not say. But it does say that one path leads to the goddess. But which one is up to us to find." Fran stands up, done summarizing.

"Hey," Vaan says as an idea occurs to him, "what if we all spilt up? Like, two people per tunnel. That way we know at least one group finds the goddess."

"I don't like the idea of us splitting up." Al-Cid says, looking down each tunnel. "Who knows what may be down there."

"It wouldn't be like we were alone though." Vaan points out. "I think we're tough enough to handle whatever might be in those caves."

"And we can't spend a lot of time arguing about it either," Penelo says, voice desperate, "those people outside-" her voice trails off in worry. Al-Cid takes a deep breath, nodding slowly.

"She's right." Jibrel says gently. "We cannot afford to waste anymore time. Not when your men may be at stake."

"I know." Al-Cid gives a final nod. "We split up. Basch, Vaan, Penelo, you three take the west tunnel. Kiesh, Phathe, the north, Balthier and Fidel the east closest to yourselves, and Fran, Jibrel and I the second east."

"But-" Phathe starts to protest. Al-Cid shakes his head.

"Those are the groups. If you reach the end of your tunnel come back immediately and wait here for the rest of us. Do not hang around." Al-Cid looks at all of us and gives a nod of encouragement. "Luck." He smiles a little and turns around, entering into the tunnel, quickly followed by his team. There was a small flash of green light as the three enter, locking them to that tunnel.

"Come on," Vaan says to Penelo and Basch.

"'Kay." Penelo follows, Basch bringing up the rear. Phathe slips me a worried glance, but I just smile back, trying to look confident. He doesn't seem to buy it, or at least pay much attention.

"Come on," Balthier says to me, "can't stand around smiling all day, can we?" He walks off towards the other east tunnel.

"Guess not." I follow after Balthier, leaving the concerned Phathe to stand tensely before entering into his own destiny.


	33. Chapter 33

I stayed close to Balthier, still holding the small white orb of light, the blue and glowing spheres in the walls not providing enough illumination to see much of anything. Twice I almost fell head over heels, feet catching on stones and what not, all the while following the sky pirate's back in silence. I had no idea what to say, all I could think of was what luck and good fortune I must have for me to be wandering aimlessly in never ending tunnels with the one person I really wouldn't mind getting lost with.

As far as normal conversation went, my tongue was tied, afraid I might blurt out something stupid. Why was this happening now? I hadn't been all tied up and twisted before, or at least not as bad. But now the only thing I knew was my madly beating heart, and the excitedly sick feeling churning like butter in my stomach. I felt so sick sometimes, so anxious, I might through up. That's how I felt now, not focused on what I had to do, but who was with me. Selfish, yes. Logical, no. Love spells no logic.

"Stay put a moment," Balthier suddenly announces, holding up a hand. My steps falter.

"What is it?" I hiss at him, but he only shakes his head.

"Lend your ears a moment. I think something moves." I listened, listened to the water dribble down the walls, listened to the beat of my heart, and faintly I heard a grating sound, a crunching rumble. It was soft and I couldn't pin point the direction of the noise.

"Where is it coming from?" I whisper, afraid to raise my voice.

"I cannot say exactly, but tread with a lighter foot." He began to advance again, moving cautiously. I followed his example. We walked on, taking care not to make much sound, and as we went deeper into the labyrinth, the grating grew louder, so loud the ground began to vibrate. Balthier and I came to a large opening in the tunnel, a rounded area with a high arching ceiling that reached into sky, endlessly. Other tunnels lead off of it, and one large orb was stationed in the ceiling, sending a chilling blue glaze upon the rock below. The floor beneath my feet shook violently, and I could barely keep my footing.

"E-e-earthquake?" I stammer, staggering over against a wall for support. Balthier grimaces.

"Certainly seems that way." He says, teeth gritted. "Stay close." A hand goes to his side, pulling his gun out. The two of us walk into the center of the room and stop, looking from tunnel to tunnel. Atop each doorway to another path was a marking, a sun, moon, star, water droplet, many different images, each representing a god, I guessed. "So," the pirate says, "which one?"

I nod to the droplet. "That one." I say. "Makes sense, right?"

"Too much sense if you ask me." He folds his arms.

"Th-ink it's a trap then?" I raise an eyebrow. He shrugs.

"Just a hunch, but when you leap from place to place as I do, you tend to learn a few things here and there." I wonder how he keeps his words steady in the quake, but don't ask. I don't have a chance to. At that moment, the ground in front of us breaks, large cracks appearing, a gaping hole growing.

Balthier and I back up, looking for an escape route, but don't have time as a large dragon, black as night, webbed and hooked claws, pushing itself out of the ground to look upon us. It's face was pointed, eyes beady and narrow like a snakes, snout pointed and long, slits for nostrils, and long tendrils burst from it's face, weaving their way down to the ground, twitching and alert almost as if they were creatures themselves. A large cobra like hood sprung from the back of the dragon's neck, and a powerful tail swept back a forth as the hundred foot guardian pushed itself forth, advancing on it's prey.

"Duck!" Balthier shouted as the long and spike covered tail swung towards us. I flung myself onto the ground not a moment too soon. I felt the air around me swirl and gush passed as the dead weight of the tail careened over head, smashing into a wall and sending large boulders and rocks down over our heads. Balthier's hand fastened around my own dead one, loose from the sling, pulling me up into a run.

With my other hand, I fired a round of shots at the dragon; however, being new guns, each shot flew off in their own direction and the sound of bullets only made the dragon more agitated. Again the tail swung towards us, and I found myself lying face down on the hard floor, covering my head as shards of stone rained down around me.

Balthier scrambled upright and hurtled the small white orb Fran had given him towards the creature, hitting it in the back. A cry of anguish rang out as a burst of hot flame engulfed the creatures back, sending a blinding white light throughout the arena. I closed my eyes tightly and ran, not knowing where to go, and fell over a rock, landing heavily on the ground. Blood filled my mouth as I cut my lip. Slowly I flittered open my eyes, blinking them tentatively. The light still shown brightly as the fire worked it's way up the dragon who was smashing into everything, destroying the inside of the cavern. Balthier on the other hand was on his hands and knees, scrambling to pick up his gun. He dropped it in order to get me to run. I felt guilty.

Pushing myself up, I sprint over to him, eyes watering from the light, ears ringing.

"Got it." I hear him mutter, frustrated. "Come on, that fire won't last much longer." I nod. Again he takes my hand and together we run for the nearest tunnel, a small green light flashing as we did so, locking us into the tunnel. Neither of us stopped running, we never looked back, and said no more. The rumbling had stopped, but we were both sporting cuts, bruises, bleeding wounds, and he bore a scorch mark across his cheek. I didn't know how I appeared, but considering how much my body ached, I would guess I was in much the same state. The dim blue orb lights glinted in the darkness, just barely illuminating the rocks, never enough to see which way to go if there were other tunnels leading off of ours. We just kept running.

* * *

I felt my knees give way, body slumping to the stone beneath, crying for a rest. We had run and run until we had nothing left to run with. Balthier slid himself down a wall, breathing hard, sweat brimming along his hairline, running down his face shimmering in the blue glow. I slumped over and lay on the cold ground, soaking in the frostiness beneath me. My mouth gaped wide open, sucking in air in large gasps like dog, stomach doing summersaults. It took whatever energy I had left to not spew my insides everywhere. My head was foggy, temples pounding, eyes unfocused, lights dancing in my pupils. My entire body pulsed at once, dizzy and tired, all my muscles strained. I would give anything to just lie here forever. Balthier's panting was far softer than my own, obviously used to running so hard. Lucky bastard. 

"Alright there? Hurt?" He says to me once he can manage words. It takes me a great while to answer back.

"I'll live." I say, pressing my throbbing forehead into the ground. What I wouldn't give for a drink of water.

"Anyways," Balthier stands, propping himself against the wall, "I think we may have arrived."

"Arrived?" I roll my head in his direction, noting his feet were a yard or so from my head. "Arrived where?"

"Is that a trick question?" He says, amused. "I guess you honestly thought we wouldn't be the ones to stumbled upon her lair."

"You mean we're _ here? _" I ask, pushing myself up into a sitting position.

"Just look down that hallway." Sure enough, at the very far end of hall stood two large stone doors, blue orbs encrust around the closed frame. "Well," he says, coming to stand beside me. My heart leaps. "I suppose we must pray to a god."

"Guess so." I stand, taking my time. Balthier helps me up, my thighs not wanting to support my weight. They shake beneath me.

"Alright there? We can wait a moment if you still need a second."

"No," I shake my head, "the longer we wait the more people die. I think our hour may be up. Let's do this." I watch as a small smile creases his lips.

"Very well, but I will tell you now, no god would listen to me." He slings one of my arms across his shoulders and helps me walk.

"What do you mean by that?"

"If she appears, it'll be because of you." He lapses into silence and I don't press for details. There's something obviously going on in his head that he doesn't want to entirely divulge, and it pains me a little. But I hold my tongue. The pair of us stop at the door, ten foot or more, and stare onto the cold and stern granite sealed shut. I pull my arm from Balthier, and hobble to the door, facing it entirely before knocking three times. The stone shakes, ripping itself away from the floor, sliding up into the ceiling above.

The scent of sweet cold water pours from the next room, the temperature noticeably dropping. Running water echoes, a clear indigo light comes from under the rising door. Once high enough off the ground, I stoop low and duck my head, moving under the door. Balthier does the same. My eyes are met by a large rectangular room filled with small streams of cold ice water, the river beds carved right into the stone. Small waterfalls pour from openings in the walls, mist rising upwards. Small marble bridges arch over the rivers which cross over one another, meeting in intersections of rippling water. In the center of the room was a large pool of water, a giant hole in the ceiling pouring down liquid crystal endlessly.

"This is sea water." Balthier observes. "Clever how whoever made this used the land to their advantage." I nod in agreement.

"Is this her alter?" I say, nodding to the large water fall which poured from the ceiling. Balthier studies it a while as we move further into the room, walking towards the giant pool.

"That would be my best guess." I shiver, goose bumps rising. I cross over one more bridge, careful not to slip on the water soaked stone, and nervously approach the circle. Balthier stands behind me arms folded.

"What now?" I say, shaking a bit. I had never spoken to god before, nor had I planned to at any time in my life. What would I say?

"Call her." He says as though it's really very obvious.

"How???" He shrugs.

"You're a bright girl. You'll manage." I swallow hard, cheeks blazing, my bottom lip firmly bitten as I searched for thought. How to pray-

"Goddess of water," I call to the misty air, shouting above it all, "please answer my call. Ivalice needs the aid of god, and we turn to you for guidance. Grant me my wish and help. Appear before me and give me a sign. Anything, just do not let Ivalice go unheard."

"And I suppose," Came a strange voice from the water, gurgling and echoing in a haunting way, "that you represent the voice of Ivalice?" I am taken aback, surprised by how fast she responded.

"Y-yes." I stammer. There was a pause.

"I have watched you, child born of hume, and your journey into my chamber. But I have not watched Ivalice. Ivalice will not watch me, nor any other god. Why do you turn to me for help?"

"Because," I say, trying to sound demure, "we have nowhere else to turn."

"So a god is the last resort?" Her voice bitter. "I have known my worship lies in a few devote. And I seek no more worship. Most gods have left Ivalice, abandoned it to the Occuria who were our servants long before your days. This world is a lost cause, doomed to die the moment we went forgotten. Why should I serve to help a world that does not wish to serve me?"

"Because it is your creation milady. We are your children and as all children we make mistakes." If I could have seen her eyes, I would have averted them. Although I had never really believed in the gods or put much faith in them, I felt ashamed. Her voice was full of sorrow and anger, a disappointment only she knew.

"And I as mother need punish my children. Understand what happens when your back is turned from family. Why do you wish to heal this world?"

"It is all we have left to live on," Balthier answers this time with a shrug. "What other reason need there be?" The goddess goes silent a moment, thinking.

"Your home," she repeats, thoughtful, voice soft, "it is. But what evils taint it? To me, it already seemed evil."

"An evil soiling the name of the gods." Balthier says. "The hume have begun wielding the raw powers of Ivalice to create monsters."

"Create monsters. Yes, I can feel it in your blood, little hume. Tainted power gone wrong, crying in lament. And you are not the only one who cries." It was like listening to a heart broken mother. Her voice faded like the mist rolling about my feet, and there, just an arm's stretch away, a figure began to form, but no more than an outline.

She appeared, long inhume body delicate, graceful, artfully crafted into a woman, figure perfect and flawless. I could see no face, no detail, just a shadow amidst the falling water, the trace of hair falling to her feet. It appeared as though her hands were drawn up to her face the way her body was positioned, as though she were praying. More like she were listening to something, meditating on it. I waited, breath bated, steady. When next she answered, it was in a different voice, one that was closer to me, not as echoed, soft and gentle like the water around.

"I hear," she breathes, as though breathing life into what she hears, "the cry. So loud, so penetrating. Why has no god heard this before? Why has it gone unheeded?" It was not a question to be answered. There was a pause, long and the only sound was the beating of the water against stone. "Tainted child of hume born, and man of the skies, I shall answer your call, but at a price. Listen to my instructions.

"There is a place, far to the north, hidden by wood, nestled in earth, and covered by Ivalice's core. It is a place where the Mist runs thick, ships cannot fly, and animals walk not. Plant life dies for the power is so great. It is there where the answer to your prayer lies, deep within the dirt. There is an opening into the ground, a cave, like a giant rabbit warren, in the center of the wood. Enter there and descend. Go down as far as you can and there you will find a stream. But this is no stream of ordinary. It is the blood of the planet, the blood of the gods woven together to make up this world. Take the vial in which I give you, and dip the glass into the water, mind you not touch the water yourself though. The power in which you will be holding has more strength than even the most vexed of Mist. Take this vial to your enemy's reservoir of liquid Mist, Magicite, and Nethicite, and poor the contents in.

"Once done, the effect will be immediate. All who be tainted will find haven, in death or new life is unknown. Your enemy will have no power left, their armies nothing but hume once more; however, because you play with the raw materials of this Ivalice, the very thing that keeps her going, life as you know it will be altered. Creatures may die, cities may vanish, the magicks of your homeland may disappear. Realize how serious this may be hume; you may save your planet from one strife, and give it a new. Think wisely before your spill the vial."

"I shall." I say with a nod. The god approaches me, walking on the water effortlessly, and I watch as one hand penetrates the side of the water fall, dripping wet, skin a dusted blue. I reach out my hand, and her long and elongated fingers drop a small, crystal vial on a long silver chain into my palm. I drew the vial towards my chest and nodded to the god who inclined her head once, turning the glass over and over in my fingers, growing accustomed to it.

"Praise be to thee" She whispers, and fades away, back to the heavens.


	34. Chapter 34

Sunlight blinded me as the two temple doors swung wide. A hand went up to block my eyes and I heard somebody give a soft moan behind me. Everyone had managed to escape the temple, although Balthier and I weren't the only ones to have come across something down those dark and twisted tunnels, but it was clear who got the brunt of it. My body still ached.

As my eyes grew accustomed to the light, I began to notice something; there were no voices, no sound to greet us. No mutters of people talking in their sleep, nor the coo of a chocobo as they dreamed; everything was still and silent.

"My word-" Fran breathed behind me.

"What?!" Penelo exclaims beside me, breath catching.

"B-but, when we left, everyone" Vaan staggers forward a little, pushing past me. My eyes adjust, and just as I feared, just as I heard, nobody was there. Not one soul, one trace, was left of our party. It was as though they had never even been.

"Who could have done this?" Basch says, coming to stand by Vaan.

"Isn't it obvious?" Balthier folds his arms and walks halfway down the steps to survey the land. "We were played as fools. Everyone. And sadly, it was our party who paid the price."

"There doesn't seem to have been a struggle at all." Jibrel observes. "Nothing, not even footprints in the dirt."

"It appears as though those Priests knew exactly what they were doing. I doubt they expected us to come back alive from the temple." Al-Cid stands beside his fianc.

"W-we have to go after them!" Penelo stammers, rushing behind Al-Cid, desperate.

"And what good would that do?" Al-Cid turns to the girl. She appears taken aback and slightly reproachful. "Fall right into their hands you want?"

"But she's right!" Vaan comes to stand beside Penelo. "We can't just leave them to thosethings."

"By the time we locate them," Fran turns to Vaan, "it will be all over, and time for another kill."

"And how can you be so sure?!" Penelo snaps. This took Fran off guard a little; Penelo was gentle by nature and never sought to argue with anyone. "There aren't even footprints! No struggle! We may still have-"

Balthier cut across her. "All the more reason to let it be. No signs of a struggle means powerful magicks were used most likely." He shakes his head. "Better we not busy ourselves with this any longer. We have what we came for after all."

"The man is right," Basch agrees with a nod, "Vaan, Penelo, leave it to rest. There is nothing we can do."

"Just like you to say that! Running away with your tail between your legs." Penelo continued to protest, turning her insult to Balthier. "Fidel hasn't even given her opinion in." A few eyes drift to me. I flush.

"Er-" I say, not sure which side to take. Half of me wanted to hasten to the rescue, while the other half wanted to get all the hell out of here.

"Leave her," Al-Cid says with a wave of his hand, walking down the steps to stand beside Balthier, "like the knight said, there is nothing we can do now but return to my kingdom and plan our next move."

"Your soon to be kingdom." Jibrel corrects. Vaan glowers, and he and Penelo make their way down the steps. Phathe gently touches my arm, biting back his own opinion, but I can already guess what is. He's glad we're leaving. I can't help but feel a little annoyed. The other knight just sighs in relief that he was chosen to go on this trip and not left behind. How cowardly. I move away from the pair and follow the rest of the group.

"So how are we going to get back to the castle?" Vaan says. "Our chocobo aren't exactly here anymore."

"I can call my airship to come for us." Balthier offers. "It'll take a little bit for it to locate us, but being with it is better than without."

"That sounds fine to me." Al-Cid says as we leave the temple. I walk from the gateway, glancing over my shoulder at the tall temple, the small vial bouncing lightly against my chest as I walk, the chain still cool. Slowly, as though being eaten away by sands, the temple and all of it's horrors and miracles, vanishes, fading to the horizon.

The steady movement of Nedakh beneath my feet, softly rocking the seat, lulled me to sleep. Hardly a moment after setting off into the sky I was out, like a baby. My cheeks were pink from the sun's deceptive kiss, and getting redder. At least it was only my cheeks, but still, they were starting to ripen, as I think were the tops of my ears.

We had waited in the sun for about twenty minutes, waiting for the ship to arrive from some unknown land, and I could tell Balthier was nervous for his ship to come, afraid somebody had found it who shouldn't have. But he had little reason to worry. As we had hoped, it arrives.

Al-Cid told us we would discuss our next move after the last remaining adventurers had taken baths, eaten, and slept a day. Although we couldn't spare anymore time, none of us were complaining at the thought of a bath, least of all myself. Blood had caked itself into my hair, making me itch and very uncomfortable.

I woke just as the ship was coming in to land on the castle lawns, directed by Al-Cid who was giving Balthier directions, not something the pirate was used to by anyone other than Fran.

"Careful, do not hit the wall."

"I know, I know! I've not crashed a ship yet!"

"And it would be best if you did not start. Swerve right."

The bickering went on until the ship was safely on the ground, well away from castle and fancy flower gardens. I tried to catch a glimpse of Balthier's face as we left the ship, noting the rarity of seeing such a proud man suddenly so indignant, but missed my chance.

No sooner had I stepped into the cool castle, making my shiver ever so slightly, than did a servant, upon Al-Cid's direction, and whisked me off to a well needed bath. I was poked and prodded, pushed into a steamingly welcome bath, and soaked with sweet smelling perfumes. The redness that had stained my cheeks, bridge of my nose, ears, lips, and back of the neck, were all treated with a cooling aloe, and the redness almost instantly subsiding. I asked were I could get such an aloe, and the maid told me it grew by the river in great prickly clumps. Only those who knew how to get around the venomous needles could extract the aloe. Residing to the fact that further sunburns would have to be left alone to burn, I pulled on some dress, not really giving much attention to it, stomach grumbling.

Dinner was well received, although I didn't notice what I put in my mouth, being more concerned with filling my stomach. I hadn't eaten a proper meal since the bread that morning. It seemed like so long ago.

Al-Cid and Jibrel sat at the head of the table, saying little. Nobody spoke much at dinner, the guilt of not saving our comrades charring away at our insides. A few knights had come in to ask, half way through dessert, whether Al-Cid requested a party to search for the missing men and women, but the king-to-be refused to give permission, saying it would be suicide. The subject never came up again.

I stood up from the dinner table once done and left to the hall after thanking Al-Cid for his hospitality. Opening the doors and walking out, I felt a slight tug on my sleeve. Turning, I see the face of Phathe, nervous and a little edgy.

"I request a word, milady." He whispered, pulling me from the doorway a bit to get out of earshot.

"Can this wait 'till morning?" I ask, politely. "I'm a little tired for serious talks." But Phathe shakes his head.

"No, I'm afraid this cannot wait. I cannot wait." I nod.

"If you must." Phathe looked around, and after seeing through two windows in the dining hall's doors that people were leaving after us, he lead me down a side corridor. Phathe was making my nervous. We stopped, mid-hall, well away from anyone else. He swallowed a few times, opening and shutting his mouth periodically. I thought he might be getting sick. "Are you okay?" I ask with a small laugh at his fish like expression. "You seem ill." He shook his head.

"I'm fine. Well, as fine as I can be." He watched me a few seconds more, as though calculating me, trying to remember how to start of the conversation. "He doesn't love you, Fidel." I heard the words, but could not understand them. It was so random, so incredibly out of the blue and unwelcome my mind went numb to block his words out. I couldn't speak, or think anything, so caught off guard. "You know that. I know you do."

"Where is this going?" I say, a little fed up and suspicious. My eyes leave his, suddenly uncomfortable.

"What I'm saying is," he takes a deep breath, "is that maybe you should look a little closer to home for somebody to love. You cannot keep following after a man who sees you as nothing more than a crew member. A 17-year-old girl." My cheeks blaze. I can find no words. "I don't see you as just a girl, but a woman capable of great things. Anyone who cannot see that is blind." His voice is tender, soft. He takes a hand and strokes my cheek gently. But I feel nothing for him. As a friend I care, but nothing more. I say nothing still. "Please, Fidel, I wish to make you my bride." I feel the muscles in my face stiffen as he says this, freezing into blank surprise and shock. I move a little a way from him.

"W-what?!" I say, voice high pitched.

"I asked you for your hand. Do you accept?" I stare blankly into his face wondering if he was for real.

"I hardly know you!" I explode. "We met, what? A week ago perhaps? No longer! Don't you think that's a little hasty?" He gives me a pleading look.

"But I can make you happy." He argues. "After all of this is done, I want to wed and take you away. Live on the peek of a mountain, or a hill over looking the ocean, and live there forever. I want nothing more than to be with Fidel, and that pirate can't give you the solace you seek."

"How do you know what I look for?" I bite back, voice low, but resentful, eyes tearing.

"Fidel, please-" He begs. My heart softens a little. He is just like me. Only he's doing something about what's bugging him, while I just watch what bugs me.

"I do not love you, Phathe. I can't. My heart is his, and I don't want you to wait for me. It is my choice to follow Balthier, and I need you to respect that. Find a woman who won't treat you so bad." I turn to go, but he catches my hand.

"Sleep on it." He says in one last attempt to change my mind. "Give me a night, please. Really think about it. If you still say no, I will say no more and leave you to follow him as you will. But one night, at least let me dream and wish and not feel bad about it. One night." Slowly, I nod.

"I'll have your answer tomorrow." He releases my hand, and I hurry away, trying hard not to cry. I felt terrible. I was doing just what Balthier was doing to me, how I felt right now. How much I hurt, that's what Phathe felt. And for that, I would think on it. Really think.


	35. Chapter 35

I lay awake, staring a pitch black ceiling, counting shadows as they drifted lazily across the walls. I rolled over with an irritated groan and pressed my face into a pillow, trying to stir up some sort of tired feeling. It didn't work-not that I expected it to. I hate it when I can't sleep, but nothing for it now; I'm awake. Defeated, I sit up and climb out of the sheets, edgy to get back to bed and sleep. I pull on a silken bathrobe and decide to go for a long walk around the corridors.

The door opens with a soft creek into the hallway outside. I peer around one corner and softly shut the door behind me once sure nobody is coming or going. I'm not all that sure if I'm allowed around the castle at night. But I don't care so much now. Heading right after deciding to raid the kitchen (a full stomach I heard knocks you out.), I hurry off. The air was warm and a northern wind beat against the windows although no storm could be seen. The moon outside was half full and half empty, stars obscured by its bright light.

I hurry passed the last door, careful to keep a light foot as I do so, and approach the stairwell spiraling down to a lower level. My gown curls around my feet as I go as fast as I can downward, enjoying the thrill of sliding and slipping on the marble stair. I step onto the ground below, bare feet chilled by this time despite the lukewarm air. Mentally, I picture a path to the dining hall, figuring the kitchens must be pretty close by and turn to head down a shadowed hallway opposite the giant doors leading to the outside world.

Just before I reach the corridor, I catch sight of fluttering curtains, billowing in the wind outside. I guessed the curtains lead to the balcony outside. Curious, I head in that direction, meaning to only a spend a minute or two in the open air. I part the delicate fabric and step out into the night. I pull my gown around me tighter, shielding myself from the fierce wind. I look around, right and then left. My face sticks left, frozen amount. With his back pressed against a wall, slid down so he sat upon the stone below, Balthier had his face turned upward at the half naked moon above, seemingly unaware of my presence. I watched him for a moment, mind blank and numb, seeing but not really seeing. What was he doing out here?

"Nice night, eh?" He said, startling me, head turning from the moon's gaze. "What brings you down here so late at night? Well passed your bedtime I might add." He stands up, brushing away dust from his pants.

"I could say the same thing." I fold my arms across my chest. I decided to answer first though. "Couldn't sleep."

"I suppose that would make two of us." He sighs a little and comes to lean against the stone fence separating us from the gardens below. "Something bothering you?"

I make a small face, reluctant to tell him or anyone about Phathe's proposal. It made me squirm a little inside, in a way I didn't like. I felt embarrassed, but maybe that was just the idea of getting married. Honestly, I didn't know how I felt, just awkward. I stood for a long while, mouthing like a fish out of water, trying to get my thoughts, my feelings, sorted out. Balthier waited patiently.

"You don't have to answer f you don't want to, you know." He finally says after minutes have snailed by. I flush a little, although I'm not sure why, and swallow once. I shake my head.

"No, no, I'll answer." I pause for a second, planning out what I was going to say. Couldn't hurt, could it? "Phathe, um, he asked me something." I mutter, eyes as far from Balthier as I could get them.

"He asked you a question? Well, that seems harmless enough." The pirate comments. I shake my head vigorously, feeling a little childish in doing so.

"Not this question." I twist my hands behind my back. "He asked for my hand." I feel a little relief in telling him, although there's a little dread too. I can feel Balthier's stare piercing right through me.

"And what did you answer?" He inquires, nonchalant about the whole thing.

"Said I'd think about it."

"Are you?"

"I'm standing here aren't I?" I take a chance at making eye contact and feel my heart give a little skip as his eyes fix on mine. I try hard not to blush again.

"Any ideas what you're going to say?"

I shake my head. "None."

"He's a nice boy." Balthier looks back at the moon. "I don't think it would be a bad idea, marrying him." It felt as though my heart was nearly stopping. I felt myself choke a little in surprise and come spluttering back up in answer.

"So you're for this?" I say, incredulously. I wasn't really incredulous, just crestfallen. Crestfallen that he'd give me off to some guy. That he must not love me.

"You don't agree?" He raises an eyebrow. "I'm a little surprised I must say."

"It's just," I say, fuming a little, "less than a week ago you were snapping at me not to shack up with some guy I barely knew. Then you're suddenly rooting for us. Kind of blowing hot and cold here, aren't you?"

"Well, maybe, I just realized the lad wasnt all that bad." He said, delicately, poising his words so they wouldn't make me even angrier.

"So, you don't care if I shack up with some guy?" I make an indistinct sound in the back of my throat.

"That's not what I'm saying at all." He turns back around to face me, face even, although his tone was a little irritated. "I've come to know Phathe, however tense he may be around me, I just think he'd make a good match for you. He cares about you enough it seems, and few men are that devote these days."

"But maybe I don't love Phathe." I rush the words.

"Then tell him. If you want to say no, then say it. I'm only giving you my two sense about it. It's your decision. No need to get bent out of shape." I look away from him, face sour, tears on the verge of pouring out. "May I ask you something?" He adds casually. I nod, blinking away a few tears.

"Shoot."

"Why don't you love him? Many women would die for a man like that, a faithful knight. Go on, you can tell me. Do you love somebody else? Why not pursue them?" I'm holding my breath. A direct hit. What do I say? What do I do? I draw in air, feeling sick.

"Because," I say, voice quavering a little, "they don't feel the same."

"How do you know?" A small smile plays on his lips. He thinks he's playing matchmaker. "Have you asked already then?" I shake my head.

"Trust me, he's not interested in a girl like me." I look down at my feet, feeling the tears starting to roll. Oh damn it.

"And what does that mean?" His voice is softer.

"It means," I say, voice even and unclogged by tears, a miracle to behold, "I'm not good enough. It means I'm not mature, or old enough. I'm not able to be anything more than a friend, and it kills me."

"Is it Basch?"

I snort "Lord no!"

"Well you said age and maturity." Balthier shrugs. "A simple guess. Perhaps I can talk to this mystery man for you?"

"And what's the price?" I ask him. "Pirates never do favors for free."

Balthier shakes his head a little, grinning slightly. "You're a crew member, you should know there is no price for helping a member of my crew."

I smile halfheartedly. "Must have forgotten." I shake my head slowly. "Thanks, Balthier, but nothing you could say could change his mind." 'Not unless you like having conversations with yourself that is.' I think bitterly.

"Well, if it's not Basch, then who else could it be? Al-Cid?" Balthier makes a small face. I shake my head again. This was becoming too drawn out. What if I just said 'you?' What could happen? What was the worst thing that could happen? He was my captain, and he did want to know. Against my will, my hopes began to rise. My heart began to pound so loud I thought he must be able to hear it. I felt nervous. And it was then that I noticed how close we were standing, I could reach out half an arm's length and touch him if I wanted.

I felt my mind go blank again, numb, almost as though I was out of body. My mind decided not say anything, but to act on it's own. I gave into the surge of impulse and kissed him, getting up on my tiptoes. That said everything I needed to say. No words were needed now as I pressed my lips against his. He was obviously surprised because I felt him tense up instantly, and he didn't kiss back. Instead he pushed me away, moving backward a few steps, the back of his hand pressed against his mouth.

"I should have guessed." He said, looking away. There was a long silence. I couldn't move. Not one muscle. I listened to my breathing, to his, fast. "Sorry, Fidel. I did not mean to trap you in a corner." He began to walk away. "Do want you want with Phathe. It is not my matter to be involved with."

"Wait!" I suddenly cry, not sure what I was stopping him for. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to do that. I just-just-" But he didn't look back, not once. Balthier left me, standing very much alone on the balcony, wind billowing about. I felt cold inside, stunned and shell shocked. What had just happened? Had I really kissed him? I press two shaking fingers to my lips, remembering how tense his had instantly become and the gentle push of his hands as he brushed my away like a fly. What I hated more than his rejection was how he decided to give me off to somebody else, make me somebody else's problem. I could feel anger building up again, tears flowing in great floods over their banks, dripping off my chin. By now, Balthier's footsteps in the castle, just beyond the curtains, were gone, and I felt so alone. I thought I could tell him. Tell him and not get hurt, but he lied. Then again, I didn't really tell him did I? I forced it on him. Force myself on him. But even still, did he have to be so cruel? Always, always, always, he seemed to look out for me. Watched over me. Now he was turning his gaze. Did he really want me to marry Phathe?

I hurry inside, clearing away the tears with a sleeve. I was going to put Balthier to the test. Did he care, Or didn't he? I was going to force myself on him again, but in a different way. Make him see me.

I was blind, as blind as a baby bat. No sense for what I was doing, thinking, feeling anymore. I only had one thing in mind as I raced up the stairs, no longer crying, ignoring my bleeding heart. That didn't matter. Glance left, right, but which way was it? I swung a left at the top of the staircase and raced down the hall, gown whipping at my ankles. I counted the door numbers. 123, 124, 125-Which one? Another left and I went pounding down the hallway until I found room 139. Without knocking, I swung it open. Will you have me now Balthier?

And I found the man I sought, already awake, standing by the window, looking out into the sky and the half naked moon. He looked up as I stormed in.

"Fidel? Have-have you been crying?" I walked to him and ignored his question.

"Tonight." I say, chest heaving.

"Pardon?"

"Tonight. My answer is yes, but only if we can marry tonight." Phathe's eyes grew round in the moonlight. He wiped away a few of my tears.

"S-so soon?" He said, surprised. I nodded.

"Please tonight. I know it is soon and sudden, but I will not wait." I watched as a smile broke over his face, relief and elation consuming his features.

"I know a man who will have us married in fifteen minutes."

"Then take me." I lock my hand in his. With a soft kiss on my forehead, he leads me away.


	36. Chapter 36

I feel my body begin to stir, the sweet ignorance of dream world withdrawing itself. The warm light of dawn pressed down on my eyelids, and slowly, I let them flutter open. The ceiling I was looking at was unfamiliar, a dusty gray, not white. Where was I?

I roll over onto one side, trying to remember all that had happened the night before, but my mind is snatched away as I turn over. Phathe is lying next to me, sleeping peacefully. What happened? I sit up and press my head into my hands, kneading the skin with my knuckles.

A small cold stone sinks to the bottom of my heart as I remember the previous night, everything flooding back to me. I thought it had been a dream, a terrible dream that would go way. But no, everything was real. Balthier shot me down in flames, and I had run off with Phathe. Stupidly and without thinking I married a guy who I had no love interest in what so ever, all as some idiotic and foolish way to somehow get back at Balthier. It was now, now that I was rational and my impulse level was down, that I realized whether I married Phathe or not didn't bother Balthier at all. In fact, he practically had told me to do it in the first place. But my motives were for the wrong reason. I did it out of spite, and now I was stuck with the result.

I look at Phathe sleeping bare-chested beside me, looking peaceful and calm. But what do I do now? Here he lies, and here I sit, miserable and unhappy. Phathe knows I don't love him, and being chained to him will just make me resent him.

I look away, unable to take it anymore. My heart is a stone in my ribs, grating against bone. Running my hands through the short locks of hair springing from my head, I try to think of some solution. Some way to escape my marriage. But I couldn't do that, ask for a divorce the morning after. It would kill Phathe, just like Balthier was killing me. But how could I live when I bed down next to a man I married after only after knowing for a week? Panic began to rise. I felt alone again. And what would everyone else say when they found out? I wasn't exactly in the castle and breakfast had certainly started already. And what if Phathe found out that I married him to get back at Balthier? Used him?

Thought after thought and realization after realization ran circles in my head. The hole I was in was deep, and it seemed as though I couldn't leave it without hurting somebody. What do I do? I can't win.

"Morning." I hear a sleepy voice say, muffled from the pillow.

"Hey." I say, not looking at him. I can't look at him. Not after what I did. Phathe sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"What's up? You're sad again." He wraps an arm around me and hugs me close. I don't say anything. "Sad about Balthier?" He tenderly whispers, voice very gentle and soothing. "It's okay. You'll move on, I'll help you do that." He kisses my neck.

"Where are we?" I ask, looking around the room.

"Don't remember? Well it was rather late I guess. Our room is just above the temple we married in. My friend gave it to us so we wouldn't have to go back to the castle."

"What about everyone else? Won't they have noticed our absence at breakfast?"

"Oh, I sent a messenger out to tell Al-Cid what happened just before I came up here. They already know we'll be late."

"You told them?!" I snap.

"Was I not supposed to?" He says, alarmed. I groan and swing my legs over the side of the bed.

"Where are my clothes?" I start looking around on the floor.

"Hey, I'm sorry if you didn't want everyone to know yet. I should have asked." He kissed the top of my head and pressed a cheek on my shoulder, putting his arms around me. I shake my head.

"Forget it...just where did my nightgown go?" I run a hand through my hair, pushing it back as my heart did leaps in my chest, a sick sort of feeling erupting in my belly. What had I just done?

"A maid took it for cleaning, and I had new clothes brought up. Did that before I came up here too. Hope you don't mind. Since you're the wife of a knight now, I had her bring up something special. In the wardrobe there-" He points to an oaken dresser across the room. Tugging a blanket around my chest as a make shift dress, I cross the room and open the wardrobe. "Since our wedding was last minute and you didn't get to wear anything special, I though that would make up for it." I cover a hand to my mouth. The dress was a rich sea water blue, just like the ones the women wore in the castle. It flowed like water to the ground, long bell sleeves transparent and light to touch. Everything about the dress was made for movement and grace. The way the dress was made would make it show off the curves in my body, but not over do it, and the way the fabric caught the light made it look as though thousands of dewdrops had been sown together and crafted neatly into a garment. I took the gown out and held it up to my body.

"Do you like it? If not I can have another one brought up. There is no other like it I might add though." Phathe says from the bed. I shake my head.

"No," I sigh, "it's beautiful." I can sense Phathe's pride in finding such a dress.

"I'm glad you like it."

"Could you look away for a moment while I put this on?" I ask Phathe.

"Aw, come on! There is no shame in that sort of thing now."

"Please?" I turn to look at him, pleadingly. Reluctantly, he nods and turns away. I slip on the dress, quick so as not to keep him waiting. I feel like a queen, like the goddess of water herself, wearing this, and despite my situation, I couldn't help but smile at myself.

"May I see?" His muffled voice comes from the pillow he's pressed over his face.

"Y-yes." I answer. He looks up and takes it in a moment, a thoughtful smile crossing his face.

"More beautiful than the sky itself, my Fidel. Now I won't ask you to look away while I dress, but if you do, I won't think less of you." I turn away and listen as he climbs from bed to dress.

* * *

"So," Al-Cid said from the head of the table, "the goddess gave you this vial, with the instructions to fill it with the essence of Ivalice, but would not say the exact point in which to draw out this power."

"She said somewhere north, a place where there was great power, but nothing more." I answer. Phathe and I had arrived from our breakfast just in time to make the meeting. I received many congratulations, a whine from Penelo saying she had wanted to come and see, and nothing else. Balthier gave me a stern and disapproving look as I had taken my seat. He knew why I married Phathe, and I had once again done something stupid without thinking, just the thing Balthier was always telling me off for. Al-Cid made us sit next to one another, wanting to keep us in the parties we had entered the temple in, and as I sat, Balthier had leaned over and whispered, "I just hope you know what you're doing, Fidel," and nothing more. There was no jealousy in his voice, no matter how hard I studied his tone, just disappointment; disappointment that I was so stupid. I've never felt so guilty.

"She did," Balthier ads, taking the small vial to inspect it, "say that no ships worked there,no animals lived there, and plants die, if that helps at all." Al-Cid thinks a moment, then shakes his head.

"It does not." He stands with a sigh, going to a bookshelf for help. "We must also somehow infiltrate the enemy base. This seems an impossible task."

"Getting in can't be that hard." Vaan says, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair. "We just have to get captured."

"Can't make that too easy though," Penelo ads, "they'd think that suspicious."

"Just get caught?" Jibrel repeats as though there must be something wrong with this plan in the making. "That seems too easy."

"Maybe just easy enough." Basch says. "We just have to be very careful."

"Covering our tracks won't be that simple. Their men and women are well adapt at tracking people they want dead." Balthier puts in his opinion.

"He is correct," Fran says, "they can track us easily. Possibly even now there may be spies in the castle. We cannot know for sure."

"Can't you sense them Fran?" Vaan turns to her. Fran looks away.

"My senses dim by each day. They are not what they once were in the wood. I feel energies, but struggle to detect them, especially now with the balance of Ivalice thrown."

"It would not matter anyway." Al-Cid sits back down with the oldest book he could find. "If Rigveda was full of spies, the Empire would be gone. From what I understand, these people turn a place inside out at mere whim."

"So, what do we do?" Phathe joins into the conversation.

"Hope for a miracle." Jibrel exhales. "We have already heard from our fallen comrades, fallen brethren. War is upon us."

"What do you mean?!" Penelo gasps.

"She means," Al-Cid gravely replies, "we have been given a choice of surrender or fight. They plan to invade my empire. Currently, my father is dealing with this matter, that is why he does not sit with us. Two weeks is all we have for a decision. Two weeks to put a plan to action." A silence befalls the room, and a helpless feeling seems to settle over our heads. Two weeks. _ Two _ weeks. It was still better than the warnings, if any, given to Archades and Dalmasca. They fell within days. My guess was that Calypso and her army were going to test their strength on Rosaria, although it was pretty obvious who had the upper hand in this game. After Rosaria, how many other kingdoms would fall? There were many other continents, many other empires out there who never had anything to do with the Archadian war, but something told me that didn't matter. This was not a war of revenge any longer, but war of power. A war that was not really a war at all, because who could fight back?

I nibbled my bottom lip, barely noticing when Balthier slipped the small vial back into my hands.

We were supposed to travel to a place where no ship could fly, no monster lived, and plants would die. A place where the magicks and mist were so thick it drove those sensitive to its power insane. But where would-

And then I remembered; long ago, or what seemed ages, before I found Caspen, before I was a member of Balthier's crew, before the downfall of Dalmasca and Archades, there was a place, a place in a wood where a large circle, a circle of dead plants inhabited. Our ship had tried to fly passed it but almost crashed, Fran seemed to loose her mind, and no monster could be seen for miles. Not only that, but the wood was north of here, just like the water god had said. Now I remember.

"Wait!" I say, excited.

"What is it?" Al-Cid looks at me, his dark look lifting a little.

"Balthier, Fran, do you remember when we first met? I was searching for Caspen and we tried to fly over that-"

"That's right." Balthier said, catching on. "There was a forest we had to fly over, but couldn't."

"Aye, and I could not handle the thick power there." Fran nodded.

"There were no monsters either, and in the center of the wood there was a large circle of dead plants. I think that might be were the god was talking about. It fits, doesn't it?" I look around the table.

"Where is this wood exactly?" Jibrel asks me, her intense eyes narrowing.

"Near Uyrii village. It's a ghost town now though. And the wood, if I remember correctly, lies a little south of Balfonheim."

"And there is no way you can miss it. The wood stretches for miles on end." Balthier leans back in his chair, resisting the urge to put his feet on the table.

"Can you navigate there and not be caught? The road to Balfonheim goes dangerously close to both Archades and Dalmasca." Jibrel questions.

"I can manage." Fran replies curtly.

"And on our way back, we can just 'happen' to get captured." Balthier says.

Al-Cid goes quiet a few moments longer, thinking. "It is very risky." He sighs, opening the book he brought out, searching for a map of Uyrii village. "But it is the best plan we have. I will approve of it. But I cannot go with you. If Rosaria is attacked I must be here to defend her."

"The fewer the people, the less chance we have of getting caught before we want to." Vaan points out.

"And we can't afford to loose another leader." Penelo comments. "Larsa's practically dead, and Ashe is under their control. We have nobody but ourselves left."

"So we must play our cards carefully." Basch concludes. "No one of Rosaria may travel with us. I think that is best."

"What?!" Phathe yells.

"He is right, Phathe, and do not show such disrespect to a superior." Al-Cid reprimands. "Basch fon Ronsenburg has been a royal knight and guard longer than you have been alive Phathe. I agree with him. The more people on board, the more likely things are to go wrong. Only those who came here may go on the journey."

"But how do we even know where the enemy's base is? Where do they keep that power source anyway? How do you know you'll be taken to the right place? By the sounds of it they control a few bases." Phathe continues his rant.

"Do not take that-" Al-Cid starts but is cut off by Jibrel.

"The boy has a point. How do we know where their power is. It seems too risky to just leave it up to luck in getting to the right place."

"Would it be in the under water base?" Balthier turns to me. Everyone looks at me. Being an ex-member, I guess I should have some idea, right?

"No," I say at length, thinking carefully, "the ships worked too well. I remember when I was in the Organization, Calypso was testing something, I'm guessing it was the liquid nethicite, magicte, and mist, and a ship that was taking off crashed. I'm guessing it holds much the same properties as the power we need to take. Wherever their ships and machinery is weakest and does not work as well is where that liquid is." Al-Cid nods.

"Tell me," Fran looks up at Al-Cid, "who delivered that message? Which kingdom."

"Archades, they arrived by airship." Jibrel answered. A satisfied silence came from Fran. Al-Cid gave a few nods.

"Try to get captured around Dalmasca. Basch, Fran, Balthier, Vaan, Fidel, and Penelo, you all leave tomorrow. We can spare no time." Al-Cid looks at each of us in turn. "Rosaria will hold them off as long as we can. May the gods watch over you."


	37. Chapter 37

We decided taking Balthier's Nedakh would be best. Rosaria had ships you could see for miles around, flashy shades of vibrant electric blue, but Balthier's ship didn't attract much attention, being nothing special. But none of us could be sure whether or not the Organization would remember his ship from previous encounters. But it was a chance we had to take. 

Hours flew passed, and I hardly listened as Phathe complained about not being able to come along. After a while I just learned to tune him out; there was just no getting to him. No reason you could instill in his mind why taking him would be bad. So I let him rant. 

Eventually I ducked away, finding a moment to escape the wrath of Phathe, and wandered around aimlessly. I walked the castle, thinking of all that had happened in the last two days, and of all that would be happening. I had no time to talk to Phathe about my mistake, more than a mistake, a life altering screw up. Not enough time to fix anything. That, and I didn't think I had the heart to request a divorce. Not when he was all worked up over not accompanying us to the river of life and the enemy's base. But when I got back, I would fix this, everything, so we were all happy, although I wasn't sure how I would go about in doing so. All I could do was hope an idea would come to me. 

My legs carried me outside, along the porch that over looked the gardens. I hopped up on the wall and slung my legs over the side. The setting sun sent a pink light spiraling over the skies, and the moon slowly began to wake, her face lighting up in the bright colors. Meadow green grass flecked with small splashes of flowers, heaved a slow yawned, eyes closing as the sun drifted to a safer place. I sigh, letting go of my troubles. 

"Impeccable timing, I was just coming to look for you." It was a voice I knew well, and a voice I'd rather not hear right now. I felt my heart tweak a string or two, and I felt the same old panic start to rise and flood its banks. Just as I found a moment of peace, Balthier had to make his entrance. Damn showy pirate. 

"Yeah," I say, not daring to turn around; I can already feel my cheeks blazing like the midday sun. 

"All I wanted to say," he comes over and leans against the wall next to me, draping his arms over the sides of the wall. I turn my head away a little more, trying to block him out as best as possible. "was that I apologize for leaving you so abruptly last night. That was rather rude of me." 

"I wasn't exactly that polite either." I said, referring to my kiss. 

"Well, it was not very gentleman of me to just walk away, but you rather surprised me, although I had a hunch." 

"You did?" I respond, voice flat. Great, so he already had known? 

"Fran told me a while ago you might. But that is beside the point. I should not have pestered you as I did. My apologies." I slowly nod. 

"It's fine." It wasn't fine. I wasn't fine, but it wasn't his fault. So he really shouldn't apologize, and I thought about telling him, but never got a chance to. 

"I just hope you know what you're doing with Phathe though. I'd hate to see more people hurt, understand?" His voice was light despite the fact that he was warning me. "Do what you have to, Fidel, just this time, make sure it is the right thing." 

"You've already warned me, remember? I'm thinking on it." I sigh and let myself relax just a little bit. 

"I don't trust you in full. And with good reason, I might through in. Just don't go making a lake out of a pond as they say." Was my problem really pond sized? I thought it was more of an ocean. 

"I got it, I got it." I sigh, swinging my feet back and forth half heartedly. I just hope it doesn't rain in my pond. 

"I'm just surprised your not yelling at me. I thought I'd find the next Archadian war when I came out here." 

"I guess I don't have it in me right now." I chance a glance at him. The dying light bounces of his face in such an amazing way as he too watches the rising moon, the sleeping flowers. He doesn't seem awkward at all talking to me now. I know I would be a mess if I were in his shoes. I look away before he can notice I'm watching him. 

"Well," He says after a few minutes of sky watching, "I've said all I needed to. I think it would be best if I left now. Be ready for tomorrow." He pats my shoulder and turns to go. 

"Hey," I say, looking over my shoulder. 

"Hm?" He turns around. 

"I love you." I say, heart clenching in a small ball as I say so. To my surprise he just smiles softly and shakes his head. 

"Sorry, but I cannot return your feelings." 

"I know." I look away again, cheeks on fire. His footsteps still echoed around the balcony, even when he was long gone. A ghost in my head. His soft pounding ringing in my ears. 

Dawn was breaking, moon setting, sun rising. I was awake, on the lawn, and suppressing a wide yawn. Phathe had woken me up at the crack of dawn to help me gather my things for the journey ahead. It was nice, I guess, having someone care enough about me to wake up before the rest of the world. 

"Here, take your gun. I reloaded it and there's a spare set of bullets in the pouch here. And take care of that arm, I got a new sling for it and everything, but still, that doesn't mean go crazy. And here's the dagger you like-" It was like having a doddering mother again. He continued to fuss over me until we got outside. As much as it pained me to admit it, in time, a long time, I might actually enjoy being married to Phathe, even if I stayed in love with Balthier forever. Phathe at least knew how to make me smile. But so did Balthier. 

I shiver in the morning air, although it wasn't cold. Phathe wraps a tight arm across my shoulders and places a small kiss on the top of my head. Nedakh was being suited up, tested, and readied for the long and dangerous journey, Balthier's mechanic, Nono the moogle, held a clipboard in his paws, checking things off as he went down the list. 

"Now," I heard him say to Balthier, "the engines are in order, kupo! Fuel is sufficient, cloaking is ready, although you only have twenty minutes of it at a time, remember that-" 

"Yes, yes, I have that in order." Balthier nodded. 

"Navigation system is all set, and it will show any other ships coming in from a ten mile radius, kupo!" 

"That will not do us much good if they spot us first." Fran says, arms crossed. Nono heaved a small sigh and nodded. 

"Kupo, unfortunately it won't do much good, kupo, but there will be enough time to attack first." Nono continued on with his list of things, the other mechanic moogles hurrying to fix up any last problems. I look around at my other companions. Penelo was leaning against Vaan, head on his shoulder, eyes just barely open. Basch was giving the moogles a hand, and Al-Cid was helping to supervise as some of his workers attach better weapons to Nedakh. Jibrel on the other hand was taking stuff inside the ship, preferring to work like a servant than give orders, her own personal protest on how servants are treated. But in my opinion, the servants here were treated very well. 

"Got the vial?" Phathe asks me. I pull the small glass instrument out from under my shirt and wave it around a bit. 

"Right here." I say, letting it drop back onto my chest. 

"Not wearing that dress, I noticed." He smiles gently. I shake my head. 

"Where I'm going, a garment like that would be ruined." 

"I suppose it would. You'll just have to come back for it then. Although, I hope that's not all you come back for." He presses a cheek against the top of my head and tightens his grip around me. I stare at the ground, not saying anything. "Everything will be fine." He whispers, more to sooth himself than me. Last night he was in a right fit, telling me to be careful and such without him there. It has crossed my mind once or twice that maybe, just maybe, he cares just a tad too much. 

"You'll get gray hair at thirty if you continue to worry so much." I say up to him. He grins sheepishly. 

"So I've heard." He pecks my cheek. "I just couldn't stand it if anything happened to you." 

"Nothing will. I'll be back in two weeks, three tops, and by then everything will be over. Nothing to worry about." 

"And then I'll take you away from here. We'll live by the sea, just like I said." His voice began to get a slight dreamy air to it, as though he can really see the ocean, hear the waves, smell the salt. 

"Fidel!" Balthier called. While Phathe and I had talked, the ship had finished it's last minute inspection. "We're ready." He beckoned to me and turned to enter the ship. Vaan and Penelo, it seemed, had already boarded. Phathe pulled away slowly. I turned to say my goodbye. 

"You-" Phathe said at length, putting a hand on my cheek, "be careful now. I want you intact when you come back." 

"It'll be dangerous, but I think I can handle myself." I smile, trying to reassure him. 

"I swear, you come back with another arm all messed up, and I'm never letting you out of my sight, you hear me?" He playfully punches, more like taps, my arm, the functioning one. 

"You'll have your arm." I can't help but smile a little. "Well, I have to go. They're waiting." 

He nods once. "Yeah, don't want to hold them up. Got'ta save the world." And I think more to his surprise than mine, I kiss him on the cheek. 

"Later." And without further adieu, I leave, running off to the ship as fast as I can. 

Nedakh headed northeast, swerving wide around Dalmasca as it did so. We tried as hard as we could to avoid getting within radar distance of the city, but that required going the long way. Taking no chances, we went around both Archades and Dalmasca, turning east once we were far enough north. It took hours. Nedakh isn't the fastest ship in the world. 

The airship swung over the ocean, flying passed the pirate port of Balfonheim, well passed, circling around. We came in over land, waves beating a playhouse sized shore as we passed over the beaches stretching below. I chanced a fast glance at the water below, but quickly leaned away, stomach lurching. 

Half an hour it took to reach the wood, and it seemed larger than before, spanning on and on for miles, nestled away, hidden from towns and cities, people, viera, seeq, and all the races of the planet. It slept in wait, waiting for somebody to dare to darken its door. As we drew closer to the center, I could see Fran starting to squirm, the magicks starting to get to her. They seemed stronger than before, choking, and the ship began to rock. 

"We're coming down for an abrupt landing. Hold on, this won't be fun, I'll assure you." Balthier called back to the crew. 

"Balthier," Fran said, her breathing labored, voice shallow, "I will not be coming with you. I fear if I do, there will be no party left." 

Balthier nods. "That would be best I think." He softly spoke to her. "I'll put the ship down back a little bit." 

"Do that." She said. I could tell it took all of her strength not to give into the power coursing through her blood. I could almost feel it, the mist in myself resonating with the god's blood in the air. 

Balthier back tracked the ship a ways, far enough away that Fran could control her anger better, and close enough that walking to the center wouldn't be too long. The ship still quaked, however, and Balthier struggled to keep control. My legs were tightly pressed to my chest, living hand clutching the fabric of my shorts with a death grip. Keeping my seat, although well strapped in, was easier said than done. I felt choked by the belt, it sank into my skin, holding me tight in place. It felt so tight I thought it would snap, and that didn't help my state of panicked mind. 

We touched ground, crushing trees beneath the ship's weight. I listened as bark burst its seams, splinters showering the ground below. I half expected a tree to pop out of the ship floor; Nedakh didn't seem strong enough to hold her own against a mighty and magickal forest, but apparently she was. 

By the time we had touched down, at least six or more hours had gone by. If we had cut through Dalmasca, the time would have been cut down exponentially, but that was simply not a risk any of us were willing to take. 

"I will keep an eye on the ship while you are gone." Fran said as we turned to leave. "And when you return, do not get the vial too close to me. I fear I may snap if I catch the smell of the god's blood." 

"Thank you for the warning." Basch says. "We shall give you and it a wide birth." 

"Appreciated." Fran answers. 

"Take care, Fran!" Penelo calls over her shoulder in that innocent way. Balthier nodded once to his partner, and she smiled warily back, something on her mind, but I never found out what. And with that, we left the ship, heading out into the deep and dense forest. 


	38. Chapter 38

Balthier led the way, as the self proclaimed 'leading man' always did, but there wasn't much to protect us from. As the god said, no animal nor monster, bird above, or insect lived here. A wind stirred the thick evergreen foliage above, and something seemed to whisper along the ground, in the trees, carried by the wind, fleeting and speaking for only a moment. It was the same forest I traveled in months ago, but somehow it felt different, as though something was moving. 

After two hours or so of walking, it was clear we were getting closer. The wind had picked up and blew in all directions. 

"Where was it we entered last time?" I called to Balthier, trying to get my voice above the wind. 

"Somewhere up ahead." He called back to me. "I think I remember where." 

"Is it far?" Penelo shouts. "I don't like this wind!" 

"I just don't like this." Vaan mutters behind me. 

"Come on now," Basch says in an almost encouraging way, "he says it as just up ahead." We stopped talking and pressed on for about fifty or so yards. I recognized the area, not tree for tree, dust speck for minuscule dust speck, but I knew the gist of the area. I began to look for the place we had entered the tangle of bush before, and thought I glimpsed an area to which we could enter; the wood seemed a little sparser there, vines not as thick, moss a little softer, trees a little more bent for entry. 

"There!" I tug on Balthier's sleeve. "I think that's it." 

"You sure?" He raises an eyebrow. 

"You're the self proclaimed leader, you should know." I answer back. He nods. 

"Seems like it." He waves a hand to the group, nodding to the small, opening. "I believe it is there we enter. Mind your footing, the roots are thick." He says as he steps through. We trip, duck, and weave, our way amongst the plant life. I wince as a thorn rakes along my good arm, drawing up a small pool of blood which dribbles to the forest floor below. "Careful here," Balthier nods to a plant on his right, "she doesn't look like she wants to be touched." Large horned and red prongs stuck out at odd angles, and the entire plant was a violent deep shade of purple. Luckily, it was the only one we came across. Our adventure through the tangle-wood was short lived, thankfully, and before long we stood on the perimeter of the large dead circle of plants in the trees. The scary thing was, was that it looked fresh, as though it had just erupted into flames or something. And stranger still, I thought I could see bones of something, decayed, lying to my left, sixty yards. No animals lived here though. I shiver and look away, wondering how many more dead things besides plants lived here. 

"Now," Vaan say, folding his arms and looking around the lifeless circle, "where do we get in?" 

"There's got to be some sort of an entrance." Penelo thoughtfully replies, voice a little softer now that the wind was dying down. 

"Not much good standing around." Balthier starts to carefully make his way through the fallen rubble. "Careful not to trip. You'd give yourself a nasty cut I fear." 

"She said," I say, taking a few steps in, following after Balthier, "we're looking for a large hole, like a rabbits warren." 

"Careful you don't fall in." Vaan comments beside me, helping Penelo over a large fallen and blackened tree. 

"I wonder what did that." Penelo looks at the dark and deceased trunk sprawled across the ground. "And it looks like there are bones over there, and there." 

"Let's not stick around and find out." Basch says, interrupting Penelo's horror, trying to sound comforting. "We have a job to do." 

"Faster it's done, faster we're out'ta here." Vaan sidles passed me, craning his head around a large fallen bolder. "You guys!" He shouts, waving one arm madly around as he stares around the massive rock. 

"Found it?" I say, carefully stepping over a few unstable looking rocks. 

"Yeah," He looks over his shoulder, We come around to Vaan's side of the bolder and peer around. At the base of the stone lurked a large gaping and ovalish hole that descended into the ground at an easy pace. It was large enough for three humes to walk comfortably down it, side by side. 

"It's so dark." Penelo whispers to herself, getting a little closer. 

"Scared?" Vaan teases. 

"No!" Penelo snaps up at him. "I just don't like the idea of walking into that place without a light." 

"Fran ever teach you that light spell she always uses?" Vaan says to Balthier. 

"As a matter of fact, she did. Haven't go the hang of it yet, but now might be a nice time to try." 

"Casting spells might be harder here." Basch observes. "This place is a leech for any sort of energy." 

"Can't hurt to try." Balthier shrugs and cups a hand in front of him where the small orb should appear. We listen intently as the pirate mutters strange sounding words under his breath. Something dim and almost fire like starts to materialize, but it wasn't the same fire that Fran could whip up. This one provided just enough light to get us where we needed to go. I couldn't tell if it was Balthier's poor magick conjuring skills, or the power we were about to face that made the light so dim, but I didn't say anything. 

We stepped down into the mossy, mud scented, and filthy tomb like hole, carefully placing our feet where the ground was smoothest. 

"Mind your head," Balthier calls back to us, "the ceiling is low." 

Walking downward was like walking down to hell. The deeper we dived, the hotter the temperatures became. Sweat trickled down from my hairline as, running off into my eyes. It was one of those hot and humid, dogs breath like, temperatures and made you itch. Made you simply want to shed your clothes and run about stark naked, not caring who saw. 

I wasn't sure how long we had been trekking for, but I could no longer see the opening of the tunnel, so we were pretty far down. The tunnel never curved or turned, never bending. I wondered, faintly, whether I could just roll down the shaft, summersault my way down. But I thought against it; a sudden dip in the path could prove very uncomfortable. 

Nobody spoke, the air was humid, and each breath seemed to be a struggle, like the air on hot days usually is. My breaths were short and close together, clogging my throat with dust that floated in the air. I wouldn't be surprised if I got TB after this. Not to mention I was already starting to feel sick. The dim light of the orb hurt my eyes, my head pounded in my sinuses, making me go cross-eyed, and slowly, a nausea began to bubble in the pits of my stomach. At first it felt like nothing, but as time began to slowly creep by, I slowly started to feel worse and worse. I looked at everyone else, none of them looked sick, just tired and covered in dirt. 

"Stop a minute." Balthier called back to us. We obeyed. "There looks to be a sort of river here. I'm not sure if it's just water, or the stream we search for." He walks forward a bit, and we don't move. Balther kneels down by the water's edge and slowly lowers a hand to it. 

"You sure you want to be doing that?" Vaan rasps to him, half choking on a bit of floating dust. Balthier looks back. 

"What else should we do?" 

"Let me do it!" I volunteer. "If it is the stream, you might loose that hand of yours. Let me dip my dead hand in and see what it is." 

"But you can't feel with it." Penelo points out. 

"No, I can't, but I don't think feeling it will help." I make my way to Balthier's side and un-sling my arm from it's holder. 

"You're sure about this?" He says. I nod once. 

"Positive." 

"Well I'm not taking the brunt from Phathe if that arm completely falls off." Balthier crosses his arm and stands up. I took my good arm and scoped up the bad, slowly lowering it to the water. My fingers sank beneath the surface, and I let them stay there a few seconds. Nothing happened. I lowered my arm even more, and still nothing. 

"I think it's okay. Nothing seems wrong." Balthier sits back down and puts his own hand in. 

"It's only warm, like bath water." He concludes. "No telling how deep it is, so be ready to swim." Tentatively, we waded in, and I was secretly grateful for the relief of the water, however warm. It soothed my head a bit and stomach. Pretty soon, my feet couldn't touch the bottom, and I dared not dive down to see how far it went for fear of finding something on the bottom that was better left there. 

The water was stagnant, unmoving, or at least from what I could tell. There was no noticeable current as it gently flowed downward, and I hoped the swim back up would be just as easy as the one down. I could feel watery mud taking refuge in my hair, and I began to feel like the refuse I was swimming in. Water passed through my clothes, soaking through, becoming heavy on my body. I felt lopsided and leg my legs float up to meet the rest of my body so I floated down my back. 

"Can you-" Penelo called to Balthier, her voice strained as she swam on, water filling her mouth. "see how much longer we have to swim?" Balthier held the light out as far as he could, but there was nothing for it. All we could see was the next feet or two of water ahead. 

"I'm afraid not, but I don't think it's much farther, I can feel ground beneath my feet." 

"That's a relief." Vaan sighs and swims a little faster. We all do. I roll from back to stomach and start wading again, noting the sloshing of water in my underpants as very uncomfortable. There is nothing worse than waterlogged knickers. 

I trudge out of the water, droplets cascading to the muddy ground beneath my sodden feet. My boots are soaked through too as it seems. I can feel my toes swimming. I take a few steps from the lake, and instantly am over come by sickness. A loud ringing pound fills my head as it throbs, eyes streaming. I lean against he tunnel for support, gagging. 

"Fidel?" Vaan notices at once and tentatively comes over. "You not feeling so good?" I feebly shake my head, unable to talk. I knew why I felt so ill. It was like Fran and her anger. I was simply reacting to the energy down here. I knew we had to be close because I felt as though I would pass out at any moment. Either that or I was out of steam. 

"What's the matter?" Penelo comes over quickly, worried. 

"Don't know. How bad is it?" Vaan asks. I felt sick as a dog. My eyes water, head pounded, heart raced, and my stomach felt so putrid I wouldn't be surprised if died. 

"It's the energy down here." Basch says conclusively. "Whatever those people did to her, it made her sensitive to strong energy belts." 

"Can you walk?" Balthier asks. "Or do I need to make Basch carry you?" I shook my head. 

"I'll manage." I squeeze out. We continue on, but I stay close to the wall, holding onto it as the world around me spun about wildly. It was like walking on the deck of an unsteady ship, but I knew if I sat down, I wouldn't get any relief, not until I had finished what I needed to do. 

After the incredibly large mud puddle, the journey did not last much longer. The sicker I became, the more I vomited, the closer we grew, until on the dark horizon appeared a faint greenish glow. It appeared as a speck, but soon grew egg sized, and then the size of a child's ball. Balthier's light snuffed out unexpectedly, and I nearly collapsed for exhaustion. My legs didn't want to move any more, nor did I want to do anything more than give up and lie down. I closed a hand around the small glass vial, wanting to draw some sort of comfort from it. It had remained ice cold, even in hell, and seemed to give me a little more oomph to keep going. 

As we drew nearer, I could hear bubbling, a thick gluttonous gurgle coming from what I could see as a cavern up ahead, everything bathed in an emerald green glow. As we approached the stream and stepped into the cavern, I could see the river, a magma like green liquid that extended on in either direction, left and right, endlessly. Miles and miles went on the cavern, and it would come as little surprise to learn that the river went all around Ivalice, like a great belt hidden under the surface. 

Steam rose up from the magma, bubbles exploding on the surface, but unlike lava, there was no stench of sulfur. All I smelled was fire. 

"Now what?" Vaan asks, staring at the bubbling green ooze. "I don't think touching that stuff is a good idea." I shake my head softly in agreement. 

"No," I whisper, voice hoarse and choked with hot ash, "we don't have to touch it." I remove the vial from around my neck, the long chain's purpose suddenly clear. 

"Nice thinking!" Penelo brightly says. 

"Here," Balthier holds his hand out for the vial, "dont want you falling in in your state." I hand the vial over without complaint. I don't doubt if I got right up to the magma that I might just keel over in it. Balthier slowly approached the river, flicking the lid up on it's hinges, Basch coming behind him for support if he needs it. Gingerly, the chain and vial were lowered into the magma. A vicious hiss erupted as the vial sank into the liquid, bubbles frantically rising to the top, and steam issued upward. And just as gingerly, he pulled it back out after a few seconds. The vial and chain were intact, lid already safely shut over the full glass carrier, having closed seemingly on its own. Balthier moved away from the lava of gods blood, and put a finger to the glass. 

"Still cool." He commented and carried it back to me, placing it over my head. "Keep it safe." I nodded weakly, and he bent down, wrapping my arm over his shoulders for support. Despite my half dead feeling, I couldn't help but let my heart stop a beating for a few seconds while he helped me walk. 

"That was fast." Vaan commented as we walked out of the center of hell. 

"Are you complaining?" Basch asks, bemused. 

"No, I just thought there would be more to it than that." 

"Like some god would come down and give us a speech or something." Penelo added. 

"Already done." Balthier said over his shoulder. "Now come on, Ivalice is in jeopardy, and you want to meet a god?" He shakes his head. "Where are your priorities?" Penelo giggles a little, and Vaan laughs a bit. 

"Guess he's right." Vaan says, and we begin the long haul back up the tunnel. 

Hours later, evening now, after the mud and dirt had permanently seemed to have made a home in my pants, shirt, hair, everything, did we finally reach the main path again. I kept the vial tucked under my shirt for safe keeping, and the sickness I had felt had worn off. My mind was dumb, tired, and strained, but for the most part I was okay, but in serious need of water. I wasn't the only one. Everyone appeared battle worn, weather beaten, and shaggy, sapped of energy. Getting back to the ship wouldn't be a walk in the park. 

My feet dragged on the ground, and it was only now that I began to appreciate the 'no monsters' attribute of the forest. I don't think I had even the strength to lift a gun, let alone fight. But as we drew closer to the ship, something in my heart didn't feel right. I wasn't sure what it was, but something felt amiss. I turned my head upward, trying to get a peek through the leaves and thought I could see a trail of smoke issuing up from somewhere. 

"Look." I point to the sky where I could see smoke. 

"What?" Vaan and Penelo say together. Penelo's head turns to the sky, struggling to see through the leaves. Basch is the first to notice the trail of smoke. 

"Something's burning." He says gruffly. 

"Funny," Balthier says, scratching an itch on his nose with his index finger, "I thought we were the only ones here besides Fran." A roaring sound came from above, almost like the engines of a an airship. I jump. 

"What's that?" Penelo says, looking up. A large shadow passes over the canopy, and through gaps in the leaves, I can see that it is an airship, but not Nedakh. 

"Who's ship could that be?" Basch wonders, voice dark. 

"Not a friend, I think I am safe in saying." Balthier looks at me as he says this. "Hide that vial." 

"Where?!" I say, panic stricken. 

"Your mouth. Take it off the chain and hide it under your tongue as best as you can." He was dead serious. Wordlessly, I took the crystal glass off its chain and slipped the cold little vial under my tongue. It fit well enough. Balthier took the chain and put it in his pocket. 

"We should hurry." Basch says with urgency. "Fran may be in danger." 

"Right." Balthier turns. "If it is them, nobody say anything." Energy and adrenaline began to pump through my veins, heart beating fast. Although I ached to run, I didn't. We had to be as careful as possible, just incase. The sound of airships flying over head, smell of smoke, and whisper of leaves surrounded us. I felt afraid, afraid for what might beyond those trees there, that turn in the path. Voices were carried on the wind, men's voices, but I couldnt understand them. We stopped walking, and listened. 

"Off the path." Balthier whispered. 

"What about Fran?" Vaan hissed. Too late. We were too late. From around us came the collective click of guns, and from behind trees and bushes emerged heavily armed men and women. 

"Hold your fire." Their leader commanded, a burly guy with heavyset muscles. I hadn't seen him before. His bald head caught the dying sun, eyes glinting with malice as a mustache twitched. "Tie 'em up. Hands behind their backs, and confiscate those weapons. Anyone who opposes gets a belly full 'uh bullets." The troops closed in around us. We didn't move an inch, didn't fight back. How'd they find us so easily? We couldn't have been seen. Couldn't have. The soldier ripped away my guns, my dagger, and felt me up for any other weapons before tying my hands behind my back. 

"Where's Fran?" Vaan spat at the commander. The bald man smirked. 

"You mean the pretty thing with legs? Tied up and waiting for you to get going. But unfortunately that ship won't be going anywhere. Seems to have, er, suffered a minor malfunction." A few soldier laughed. I felt a hand push me from behind, the signal to get walking. 

"How did you find us?" Penelo spoke up, but was slapped instantly by a guard. 

"No talking." The man snapped at her. 

"No, I'll tell her." The commander said, bursting with glee. "Was going to save it for later, but I can't wait." We were brought around a bend in the path, and there stood the smoking remains of Nedakh, her body on fire as a small army of men stood around her, their ships, four or five, large and black, hovered above. By her base Fran was tied. She looked up as we were brought into our landing site and thrown down at Nedakhs base. "Listen up, all of 'yahs." The commander said to us. I nervously ran my tongue over the vial. I was hunched next to Fran who said nothing. Her head was bowed, fingers flexing. "You girlie, wanted to know how we found you so quick. I'll tell yah, it was one of your own men who wen' and told us." 

"What?!" Vaan exploded. A guard hit him in the stomach with the butt of his gun. Vaan doubled over with a groan. "Liar." He managed to croak out. 

"Calling me a liar, eh?" The man laughed. "I kid you not, smart mouth. Apparently, one of your men was a little miffed he couldn't join your party to come up here, yeah we know about your 'plan.' But unfortunately enough for you, he flew his ship right through enemy lines. Wasn't long 'afore we captured him and got him to sing like a canary. Needed some help with that though." He laughed darkly and looked to each of us, relishing the moment. "So, where is it?" Nobody said anything. Nobody moved. The man began to turn red in the face. "Where the bloody hell is that damn vial?!" So, he did know everything. But who would know enough to tell them everything? For the most part our meetings were secret. And who was stupid enough to fly out after us? Who was that blind- I froze, realizing who. 

"You there?!" He screamed at Basch. "Mr. Ronsenburg?" The captain struck Basch hard across the face. I looked in horror at the knight. Blood fell down his mouth, into his lap, but he refused to let himself fall over, eyes blazing. "Or you, you damn pirate?!" Balthier received a heavy kick in the stomach. "Search these men! Soon as we get on the ship I want them searched!" He barked to a few guards who nodded. Then his beady eyes fell on me, me who was trying hard not to shake with fear. "But maybe it's this redhead." He turned to me, eyes dancing with cold fury. "I've heard about you." He stooped down to my level, face inches away. I could smell his disgusting breath, see the red lines darting in his eyes. "You, Fidelynn is it? Suppose you dun' like that name now, you don't." He took my chin in his strong hand, squeezing my cheeks. "You got it, dun you?" His voice was soft, yet deadly like a viper. I tried hard not to look away from those manic eyes. He raised his hand to strike, but at that precise moment, Fran screamed. Her shriek was like a banshee, the rope tying her hands breaking free of her arms. The captain dropped my chin in surprise as the viera struck at him. Her power knocked him flying backward, skidding painfully along the ground. A few men ran up to stop her from injuring the captain anymore, but she easily sank her long nails into the men, silencing them for good. 

"Fran!" Balthier shouted in alarm. "Don't-" A man ran up from behind, gun ready to fire, but she swung viciously around, cutting the man down fast as her talons plunged deep into the man's neck. "Fran!!" More men piled in, but she struck down at least five others, sinking her hands into whatever body part she could get at. It was nothing like that time she went insane in the forest. Nothing. The anger that possessed her now was deadlier and more untamed than the wildest of mists. 

And then, without warning, a gun went off, piercing through the screams of dying men, battle cry of viera warrior. I blinked, mind numb, body shaking, as I watched Fran's body jerk suddenly. Her cry was ended, and she staggered around drunkenly, tripping over her feet. She swung at another man, but there were more shots from a gun, and Fran's body fell to the ground before she ever touched him, the bullet wounds in her back bleeding, blood cascading from open wounds. Silence filled the little glade, all except for the burning ship's crackle. 

Fran did not get up. She lay grotesquely where she had fallen, snow white hair tinged with blood, fingers covered in the red wine of her enemies. 

"FRAN!" Balthier screamed. "FRAN!!! GET UP!" He shouted, seeming to have lost his mind. "FRAN!" A guard smashed the end of his gun into Balthier's stomach, making his cough up blood. 

"Shut the hell up!" 

"Fran-" Balthier continued to rasp. "Fran-" 

"Get them and go." The captain stood up, wiping a small trickle of blood from his maw. "We're taking you to Archades. First one to speak, and you'll end up like her." He nods crudely at the fallen body of our friend. Our companion. 

We were hauled to our feet, jabbed and prodded with guns, and marched off. I turned my head to look at Fran. We couldn't leave her! She was my friend, a necessity to our fight. She couldn't be-not dead. 


	39. Chapter 39

We were taken to the nearest sky ship, and tossed upon the metal floor like rag dolls. I hit floor heavily, landing on my lifeless arm, but didn't notice. The only thing I could see, only thing I could think about was seeing Fran's outstretched body, covered in blood, and the bodies of other fallen men all around her. There was no way a beautiful and graceful creature such as she could be killed so easily. It was beyond my mind to grasp that she would not be with us, would not be traveling with us any longer. The state of shock I was in didn't fade, not even when the commander turned on me again. All I could do was sit there in a shocked silence.

"So!" He cried out. "Where is it? Or do we have to put another one of yahs' in your grave?!"

"How could you-?!" Penelo screamed at him, shaking with sobs. "How could-" A guard pulled her up by her shirt collar and smacked her with the back of his hand. She shut up instantly, stunned. She fell limp to the floor, moaning from the pain, shaking in her skin.

"Penelo!" Vaan cried.

"You keep that mouth shut boy." A guard spat. The captain's boot thundered down and nailed my between the ribs. I was already too weak to fight, too shocked. I kept my mouth tightly shut all the same.

"Search 'em all." The captain nodded to a few guards. "Top to bottom. Don't leave anything un looked through." He stalked off, followed by a small group of soldiers.

Brusquely, I was hauled up my arm and thrust forward by a stringy looking woman who looked as though she might be snapped in two if you tried hard enough. Her wiry frame was tough as nails though. She shoved me hard, so hard I almost fell over, but I kept my feet. I felt angry, livid, mad as hell and more. Fran was gone and these people had the nerve to push and shove me around like some criminal. They were the criminals. I wanted so bad to hit the woman, break her fragile little face in, but couldn't. My ties were too tight. I was lead off with Penelo who still silently sobbed. Basch, Vaan, and Balthier were taken down another tunnel to some different room. I pushed the small vial further down under my tongue. I must not let it go. I must not. I would swallow it if I had too and vomit it up later if it came time for it.

The pair of us were dragged to the nearest room, a cold metal room with no chairs, beds, desks, anything, just metal. The woman who had me cast me on the floor and Penelo was tossed down next to me.

"Resist and die." The skeletal woman said, her eyes darting from me to the girl sitting beside myself. "Understood?" We nod feebly. The women who had hold of us begin to sort through our pockets, sleeves, shoes, every nook and cranny where we could possibly hide something. They were rude, and didn't seem to think twice about pulling at chunks of fabric, tearing our clothes in places, ordering us to strip. It took ten minutes to search through everything, but they came up treasure-less. "I can't find it." The other guardian sighed to the scary one. With a small snicker the bony woman, whose face was drawn so lightly about her cheeks she looked like a skull, smacked me once.

"Open your mouth." She commands. I do, keeping my tongue down. Penelo follows my example opening her mouth.

"I don't think the vial is that small." The other woman says, leaning forward to look into Penelo's mouth.

"Tongue up." The woman commands me. I instantly close my mouth, and move the vial to the top of my tongue, praying I wouldn't choke. But the woman moves with lightening speed and strikes my face with all her might. My mouth opens and vial falls to the floor with a small thud. A satisfied smile crosses the woman's lips. My hands quickly scramble to pick the vial up, but my jailer is too quick for my clumsy hands. The glass is in her pocket, safely tucked away before I can even blink. "This will make Calypso very pleased." She snickers and stands. Ms. Bony pats her pocket and beckons to the other soldier who seems in awe at her superiors skill. The two leave without a backward glance, locking the door behind them.

"Damn." I curse under my breath. Bitter tears fill my eyes.

"You tried your best." Penelo whispers, face swollen from the blows she had received. I shake me head.

"It's all too much." I mutter. "How can we win now?"

"We'll just have to get it back." Penelo and I look at each other. Her eyes determined, mine full of hate. "That's all we can do."

"But how?" I shake my head. "There's now way. No way we can get it back."

"We'll do it. Do it for Fran, Al-Cid, Jibrel, Phathe, do it for everyone."

"It was Phathe who gave our position away." I turn away from Penelo, voice starting to break. "W-ho else would do that?" Penelo bites her bottom lip.

"I know." She whispers lowering her head. "I know." We go silent a while, lost in our own heads. I nurse the bruise on my cheek, rubbing the purpling skin. How were we going to get out of this now? We were Ivalice's last chance, last hope. 'Oh please, god of water, hear me now, help me." I think, putting all my heart into the prayer, but she doesn't come. Nobody does.

The guards came back half an hour later. They put proper chains on our hands, and led us away. Thankfully, the scary woman was not amongst them. But I found little comfort in that thought. What lay ahead for us now would be far worse than a bony lady.

Penelo and I were taken to a room at the very back of the airship, and there I could see the outlines of my companions. Relief flooded me.

"You'll stay here until we reach Archades, and then you'll all be taken to our labs for fusing. And in four days time you'll march in the ranks of our army." A guard informed us, tone serious and stiff.

"I thought there were two weeks before the invasion!" Penelo gasped. The guard who spoke couldn't hold back his thin lipped curl of a smile.

"There has been a change of plans. We took Rosaria's attempt to send out for help as their response to our proposal. Rosaria will have fallen by the end of two weeks, if not less." The sentinels leave us with that resounding note. Now there really seemed to be no hope. I tried hard to keep it together, but I felt so heavy inside. Penelo and I slowly lumbered to the boys.

"They didn't get it did they?" Vaan asks, voice shaking in the air a bit, quiet, but still holding onto that one last bit of hope. Neither Penelo or I could find the words, or we did, but we couldn't speak them. It was too shameful and terrible to say. That was our last chance.

"Damn." Balthier swears. Basch sighs heavily.

"I'm sorry." I mutter feebly. "I'm so sorry." The tears start to pour again, and I work hard to hide them, keep them from being seen. But they simply wouldn't stop. I couldn't stop them. So I just cried silently.

"What now?" Vaan says, voice fallen far from hopeful now.

"It's still on the ship." Basch responds. "We need to keep an eye on it. Follow it as best as we can and do whatever it takes to get that vial back."

"They said," Penelo pipes up, "that 'Calypso would be pleased.'"

"So, it's going to her then?" Vaan says. "But I've never seen her. How do we know who she is?"

"I'm here aren't I?" I manage to say, steadying my voice. "I know her. Chances are, I'll be seeing her before I go out to battle. I'll see if she has it then." I was ready to die to get that vial back. The angry animal inside of me was rearing its ugly head. I could feel Penelo's drive starting to seep in, spurred by my own hate and anger. But even still, what if we never saw the vial again? What if we failed and I never reached Dalmasca? Only three days. Three. I felt lost. Very lost.

"Right!" Vaan tries to sound optimistic. "We'll keep our eyes out for it too. And for Calypso. But, uh, what does she look like?" He inquires. Calypso was the last person on the planet I wanted to talk about. The very last. Hearing her name made me tremble inside. Her name brought up memories. Memories of a past that I couldn't face. It made me feel weak and guilt stricken when I thought on it. But they needed to know. We had to do whatever it took, even if that meant making me open a part of myself I would have rather kept locked up.

"She's strong, firm. You'll know it's her by the way she speaks." I say, bringing her image into my head, my memories. "Everyone is drawn to her. She stands tall, five foot eight, and her eyes are blind, although if you were to see her, you wouldn't think that at all. When she looks at you, she really looks at you. Her skin is pale, hands icy cold, hair long and black. She always looked upon everyone with compassion, but there was authority there too, something you would not want to cross. Like a mother." I go silent a while. It pains me to think of her. She was my surrogate mother after my own died, and the thought of her made the heaviness in my heart grow even more.

"But something happened. Something inside her snapped. Calypso, when I left, was not the same woman I knew her as, all those years ago." I try to explain. Now I really wasn't describing what she looked like. There was something I needed to fix inside myself. Something I couldn't get over. I left her, and half doubted my actions in doing so. She had taken me in, watched over me, and when she started to slip away, when something in her went wrong, when Archades was her reason for being, the hate consumed her, I couldn't stop it from happening.

I didn't say anymore on the subject, confused slightly by my own hatred and tenderness towards the woman.

An hour floated passed, and in that time we had flown to Archades. I could not see the city, but imagining it as anything else besides the elaborate and royal metropolis was beyond my minds ability. The bright colors, rich gentry, eloquent buildings, and royal air was not something one could easily forget. Imagining a city, any city, devoted to sin in its rawest form I could see, but not in Archades. Archadia had had its war, but even then you could at least say the people of Archadia had good hearts. The people serving Calypso, on the other hand, had hearts darker than a night with no moon or stars. These people were the effigies of hate, manipulated by a tactful leader.

As a the Organization guard marched in, the bald captain lying in wait just outside the door, I chanced a glance at Balthier. He had been silent as the grave since his small outburst when I entered. I was startled at his expression. The pirates eyes drooped low, and his expression was vacant. His entire body seemed limp as though he had given up. Basch helped the man to his feet, and I saw a small look of concern in the knight's eyes as he watched Balthier approach the guard, his once cocky shoulders now slumped.

It was clear Balthier felt the worst of all of us. Loosing his navigator, long time companion, and closest friend since the death of his fianc, had taken a great toll on the man's soul. His body was beaten, bruised, broken, but his heart was in worse shape. And something in _ me _ began to hurt. A small ache to relieve some of that pain, but I knew I could not. There were no words I could offer him now, nothing to console him. I couldn't even say with confidence that we would succeed in the mission. I didn't want to plant the seeds of false hope in a man who had no more to give. But still, I wished he would confide in me, just as I had confided in him the last time I came to this city.

In a straggled line, we walked from the aircraft, somber, silent, and sullen. The pressure to do good, to put everything behind us, pushed down on our shoulders, making us feel weaker. All I could do was pray for a miracle and a sharp mind as I walked out into the dark of the night.

And there was no moon.


	40. Chapter 40

The small band of us captives were taken to the old Archadian castle, Larsa'a old home. I took a glance at the city, a brief glance. Soldiers marched the streets, not the merry people on their way to the store. Hybrids who did not sleep, never ate anything, or talked unless told to, marched along in filed lines. I wonder where they were going, what they were doing, and how afraid the soul of that soldier, the real soul, was. It made me shiver.

We were taken inside the castle, and were led away by a pack of foul tempered looking men and women. How did I stay with these people for so long? Were they always this dark and brooding, or was it just the hybrid? Perhaps both.

Down a long winding stair, to the bottom of a brightly lit hall, and passed many barred doors, firmly locked shut, we were pushed and shoved. My body felt too limp and tired to fight back. My mind was in a dreamy state, ready for sleep, the day's tragedy and predicament had been emotionally and physically draining. But I knew better than to hope for sleep; it may be hours, maybe days even before I could sleep. I had no way of telling where I was going next, what I was in store for, so anything was possible.

The band of sentinels came to a sudden halt before two giant doors at the end of the long hallway. Two soldiers made their way to the front of the group and pushed the doors open, standing guard outside as we walked passed. At first glance, I knew what was coming. The room was tidy, clean, and white. Beds with pressed linen cloth lined the walls, and by each bed ran tubes. Each tube was clear and full of an amber liquid which then was strung to an iv. This must be the liquid nethicite, magicite, and mist. A few people were lying in the beds, hooked up to the tubes. No moan escaped them as they slept in the void, but it wouldn't be long.

"Lucky for you all," A guard said to us as we were taken to the very back of the room, "we have perfected our method of fusing. Not as painful, but still strain-full on the body.

"Our doctor shall be using embryos of fish like monsters found in the deepest depths of the ocean. These fish are small, almost microscopic, and they hatch quickly on mist power and the strength they wield grows by the day. Quickly, they will take over your mind, and in about two days time you will be fit to march amongst our ranks. And there will be no possible way to remove these fish," the guard speaking looks at me, "not unless you wish to drain all of your blood."

I open my mouth to retort, say something, anything in my defense, in our defense, but from nowhere it seems a suited hand comes down and smashes into my gut. Instantly, the wind is knocked out of me. I hear Penelo rasp as she too is struck. And then a small pin prick of pain runs up my leg. Looking down, I see a knight, inject some sort of muscle relaxant into me. I know this because my body immediately reacts, slumping over, unable to support its dead weight any longer.

I watch as my feet as lifted off the ground, carried by two men. Somebody has my head, and together they lower me on a bed.

"Don't flinch." One snickers and he gets the iv ready. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch a needle sink into the vein of my arm, and instantly I feel a burning sensation crawl into me, erupting from the small needle. The heat spreads throughout my body rapidly, and suddenly everything starts to go dim, as though my body is closing in on itself. I watch the blurry outlines of the guards become less and less defined as they mesh with the background.

"When will she be ready for her parasite?" One woman says somewhere around me, her voice growing distant.

"We have to be careful when we do that. She's the first specimen to get two-" and then I can hear no more. I drift away, far away, falling asleep, or something similar. But I felt no blackness around me, just dreams. I am surprised. All I can hear is that heart beat, slow and steady. The whispers are faint, but the blackness seems to be gone. Relieved in a way, I let my bruised body relax, knowing I needed the rest.

The dreams in my head began to weaken, fade, turn to dust in my mind, sieving away like water in a finely made net. My lashes lift from my eyes, lazy and drooping. The muscle relaxant still had ran through my limbs, veins, making me sink deeply into the soft mattress below. The lights were off in the room I lay in, but long shadows crept along the windowless walls. I could see the outlines of people lying beds, companion or otherwise, being fused for the purpose of war. I feel my right arm twitch. Looking down I see a large bull's-eye like mark imprinted on the irritated skin where I must have been injected with the fish.

I had had no dream of dark places, or loneliness, but I heard hearts; two. It felt as though some sort of a power struggle was going on inside of me however, as though my old parasite was not about to let go, even without a body, and my embryo hybrid giving the old parasite a fight for its control. It made my heart feel strained, my mind feeble, and every now and then I could feel a small shock of pain, but nothing like before. Although, it may just be the fusion going on.

My iv of amber brawn had been taken out of my skin, and the heat that had pulsed through me was gone. My blood was no longer lava. It felt nice.

I sigh, softly, soaking in the downy feathers beneath my skin, momentarily forgetting my problems. It's hard to think about saving the world when your mind won't _ think. _ I decide to test out my body's mobility. Slowly, I prop my limp self up on my good arm with a bit of difficulty. The arm shakes and quivers under my weight, so I ease myself back onto the pillows. Whatever these people used, it was strong. My small exercise left me tired, muscles aching.

I roll to my side, feeling uncomfortable, and lightly place my dead arm across so I can relax a little better. Next to my bed is Balthier's cot, ironically enough, and I feel my heart leap lightly as I see him in the darkness. But I see something. Two shimmering pinpricks in the dark; his eyes were the illuminated by dimmest of dim lights catching the whites of his eyes as he lies awake. I had no knowing of how long he had been awake for, or if he was still sane after all the Organization had done, but still, at least he was some place where I could see him, be with him. That made me relieved.

I watched his mouth open slightly, or so I thought. He gave a small, barely audible sigh, disheartening and melancholy. "Don't think I don't notice you watching me." He mumbles in a groggy voice. Even when feeling half dead I can't help the blush rising. "Is it wise to look upon another man when you yourself is betrothed?"

I look away, abashed. "No, I suppose it isn't. Sorry, that was rude and out of place." I say, vocal chords working hard to produce any sound. Apparently the voice box was also effected by the drug given to me; my voice was slow to come, puny to come out, and lazy to produce much sound.

Balthier softly shook his head a few times, (I knew because I secretly turned a little to see at least some of him) and lapsed into silence. I knew he was in mourning, and would be for some time. Who wouldn't?

"You alright?" I manage to get out, hoping I had said it strong enough for him to hear. The man doesn't say anything for the longest time, and I consider repeating myself, but just as I make to do so, he answers.

"Don't pester me, please. Your heart may be in the right place when you ask, but spare me the trouble." He says, voice dying away at the end.

"So, you aren't alright." I answer, being insensitive about his request. Long ago he had done the same for me, forced me out of my shell. Why couldn't I give him the same? I feared if nobody talked to him, he might stop talking all together. Lock away that part of him, as I had almost done. Pain was something meant to be helped through, not suffered alone. Everybody needs somebody.

"What did I just ask of you?" He turns his head over to look at me, and I cannot see his expression in the dark, but considering his tone, he wasn't pleased.

"I know what you asked," I say earnestly, "but aren't you living a contradiction then?" I manage to feed my words out one at a time. "Was it not you who told me to express myself? Was it not you who helped me when death and I crossed paths? Taken a life I held dear?" I argue in my feeble voice.

Again the man sighs, agitated.

"You and I are different people." He says in his defense. "You cannot place me on your level." He groans slightly as he pushes himself into a more comfortable position.

"Does that matter?" I question in a belligerent way. "Do you preach lies? How come you can sit there telling me how to live, but cannot live that way yourself?"

"Don't," he points an angry finger at me, "push your luck."

"That doesn't make any sense. What luck do I have to loose?"

"My favor."

"Friendship you mean." It wasn't a question. A small smirk can't help but present itself on my face.

"I have no love to give you, so yes, my friendship." His agitation began to mount even more.

"That' rather immature, wouldn't you say? If you lock yourself up, totally immerse yourself in grief, then wouldn't you have no friends anyway?" I counter. I'm not sure if that was the remark I was aiming for, but it just sort of slipped out. It got my point across though. His silence, bitter and resentful, I took notice of. "Fine," I sigh, "you win. I understand you wanting to be alone. But you aren't. I thought you of all people would know this, but I suppose not."

I roll over, away from the disgruntled pirate and close my eyes as though to sleep. The sound of quietly breathing people, creaking pipes, and the steady beat of a heart or two resound in my head. The resounding noise is broken.

"I just don't enjoy talking about these things." He said at long last, trying, I think, to be manly as he speaks. I say nothing, but let him say what's on his own. "Fran was the second, not counting my father of course, person who I have lost. The second closest friend I've had. It's just a blow, alright. You know that, I know that. So why must I tell you about it? Yes it hurts, and yes I mourn, so what else do you want me to say?" He still seems defensive, but it's a start.

"Whatever you need to." I mutter, trying to be neutral, but I cant help but slip in a little compassion. I roll over again to watch him, and think, just think, that maybe there was a tear going down his face, reflecting in the dim, oh so dim light, but I'm not sure. He doesn't seem the man to cry. Either way, I soften and smile a little, sad though.

He shakes his head slightly. "I need to wander again." He whispers to the darkness. "Leave and go on." His pirate heart pleaded to run away, escape it all, and once again rename himself. I wish it wasn't so.

Time drifts passed, and the shadows grow long. Balthier and I have not spoken in hours. He's asleep again, off into his own void of darkness. Who knows what that abyss will do to him in his state. Intensify his grief, deepen his depression, and make him ball up even more most likely.

Myself, on the other hand, cannot sleep. This mind of mine wanders like a nomad from thought to thought, sailing its ocean blue. I roll to my back for the umpteenth time, and watch the very interesting ceiling above, and begin counting cracks. One, two, three- I pause a second in my very important counting, listening hard. Outside in the hall, I think I can hear movement, as though people were coming. The sound of shoes hitting stone echoes, and it doesn't sound like one pair, but many. I slowly push myself upright, body functioning better now.

I lean forward in my bed, ears tuning into the sounds coming from the hall. Curious, I slowly ease myself from the comfort of my sheets and carefully cross the room of sleeping people to the door on the other side. It wasn't locked to my amazement, and I turn the handle a little, opening the entrance a mere sliver to peer out. At the other end of the hall, coming this way, was a large group of people, walking silently, almost zombie like down the hall. There were so many I couldn't count them all, more people than ceiling cracks. In the front of the group were two commanders, and to my surprise they stopped in front of my a door a second to watch the procession go by.

"Is it wise to bring out all of these people at once? It's a rather large-" The inferior commander said to his superior.

"No." The other says, cutting his fellow short. "We take these people-all of them. Rosaria is fighting back better than we had expected, so it's time to silence them for good."

"But these men, they're hardly competent! Most of them still are fresh from the hospital bed and have no idea how to wield their powers yet. We'll sink ourselves-" Again he goes cut off.

"Shut up. I told you what is to happen, and it is not your position to disobey and mouth off. After some training they will be well suited for battle. Calypso will be there. Do you have any fears now?"

"No sir!" Said the other with a salute, quickly trying to amend his mistake.

"Good. Get the troops onto the airships for Dalmasca. I want them boarded and gone in an hour. Understand?"

"Yes'sir!" The man runs off ahead of the group, while the other shakes his head once, muttering about insubordination. He walks the opposite way, heading to the back.

I slowly close the door, heart hammering. These people were going to Dalmasca did they say? Calypso would be there? I nibble on my fingernail a bit, listening to the feet marching outside. I look back to the beds around, to Vaan, Penelo, and think; could this be my chance? Was this my opportunity to finally make what was wrong right?

I look down at myself and the white dressing gown I was in. It didn't seem right to fight in a dress, but half the people out there wore pajamas, literally fresh from the hospital bed. I would blend right in so long as nobody noticed who I was.

I walk back across the room, back through the sleeping people, wanting to be quick. There wasn't much time before the troops were outside and I wouldn't be able to get to them. I go as far as Balthier's bed and look down upon his sleeping form, face solemn, far from peace. My eyes can't help but soak him in like a sponge, memorizing his face, every line, every strand of hair, and the small frown across his lips in sleep. I slowly, reach out to touch it, soft, careful not to wake him.

"I want," I whisper to him, "to do this right. Make up for everything." I take a deep breath, lump growing in my throat. "Sorry for-for giving you a hard time." My bottom lip twitches a bit. Goodbyes were never my thing. I was afraid to leave them all, step away from my safety zone and take on the charging bull alone. Scared of not succeeding, and most of all not coming back. But if I didn't do this now, while I was still in my right mind and while the hybrids fought within me, there would be no hope. "I'll do it right. I'm not just some screw-up teenager who acts on impulse all the time. I can be right sometimes, even if I can't be right with you." I swallow hard, and lean forward to gently kiss him. He did not kiss back, but he did not repel me as before. His sleeping lips were softer than I had remembered, warm, but silent. Alone.

I cross the room and join the ranks.


	41. Chapter 41

The voyage from Archades to Dalmasca was a cramped and uncomfortable trip. We soldiers were filed into the bellies of a few ships, left to stand shoulder to shoulder while we were ferried from one city to the other. Nobody, to my relief, caught sight of my face and had a chance to recognize me. But still, I couldn't afford to grow negligent and give my guard up. Somebody was bound to notice I wasn't in my bed, so it wouldn't be long before all the captains and generals were told to keep an eye out for me. I'd just have to work hard to keep a low profile, try not to stand out in anyway. 

But not standing out was put to the test as soon as I secretly joined the ranks. While in the underbelly of the aircraft, I could sense a tension coming from the other hybrids. It was a tension that made me skittish, made the small hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and made my heart pound desperately against my ribs. It was no skeleton in the cupboard that I wasn't exactly the strongest member in the army. The hybrid's seemed to pick up on this instantly. I could see them, the beasts and savages, almost itching to pick a fight. They were, after all, mutated to fight. 

I learned fast to keep my eyes from meeting theirs, trying to seem as submissive as possible so as not to provoke attack. Although they still resembled humes, having not used their powers before, I could see from their eyes, vacant and white, like blind animals, that these were no longer hume, viera, seeq, or any other major race. They were purely pawns in a game of strategy. Pawns that hungered for blood. Would I be one of them? A creature that starved for the flesh of another? A face who was pale and haunted, like the dead, craving a life that would never be satisfied. A life that should have ended when they did. 

I was afraid. 

We were shepherded like flock from the airship, guards brandishing swords at our backs to get us moving faster. Into the hot Westersand sun we moved, and to a training camp whose tents and army barracks transformed the once untouched land into a breeding ground for war. At the very least there was no sandstorm blowing, so I didn't have to worry about flying rubble hitting my face, although, a storm may not be that bad. It would make finding me harder. 

Once away from the ships, everyone was spilt up into groups, rather randomly it seemed, but I guess it didn't matter. Heavily armed men and women broke us up into sections, and the entire procession was over seen by Caux, one of the men who witnessed Caspen's shooting all that time ago. He would recognize me at once if he saw me. 

Hours passed, hours full of gun shooting, sword handling, and 'unleashing the power within,' but as far as my hidden power went, I didn't have much of one. Not while I was in my right mind I didn't, and I knew, somehow, that those beasts around me knew. Luckily, even though the groups were divided up, they were still too large for anyone to see that I was having a hard time. My dead arm hung useless at my side, sling left in the infirmary, and the sword I held was heavy, far heavier than I would have liked it to be. When wielded right, this thing could easily make mince meat of any soldier unfortunate enough to cross its path, but in my hands, you were pretty safe. But I tired hard to ignore that fact. 

Our training seemed endless. The hot sun burning ninety or more degrees on what bare skin there was, which wasn't much. We had all been given armor to train in, which was crazy. A helmet covered my head, sweat baking against my flushed skin. The metal slid uncomfortably as I moved with the group who were learning a routine battle stance. I waited for break, but found none. Super human powers meant super human limits, and I was determined not to pass out as I worked. If I did, I would either be found out or ripped apart by these monsters. And yet, it seemed, fate was not on my side. I felt dehydrated, hungry, and tired. 

"Now shift to the one side," a commanding man shouted to us, sun blazing off of his dark skin, "this opens the mist channel inside of you. Take your sworded hand and swiftly cut the air." We did so as one. I almost lost my balance as the sword dashed across my body to strike down the invisible opponent, but I kept a handle on it. My eyes drift to the uneven sand around me, watching little bits of pebble start to swirl around my feet. Yes, perhaps it was a sandstorm. I heave a sigh of relief. 

I did not take long for the wind and sand to blow in upon the training crowd. We were all directed into tents and barracks to wait out the storm. Gratefully, I sat down on the ground and lay down on my back, and was about to remove my armor, when I saw a few officials walk by. 

"Up," one barked to me, "nobody said to sit down. Nobody else is, is they?" 

"A little too much mind on that one." Said a woman to the ear of the man who just spoke. I stand quickly, and don't dare to move another inch. 

"They're fresh," said the third official nonchalantly, "Calypso even said a few might not be as responsive for a small while." 

"Even still," the woman eyed me up, "they shouldn't act with such personality." The lady smirked and turned away, stalking off. 

"Stay there." The first guard looked at me, pointing his sword at my chest. "You keep acting so free tomorrow, and we'll be giving you more mist to balance out that will. Make you suffer for a few days. How 'bout that?" His black mustache twitched a little. I didn't move a muscle, all except for my heart which hammered. Sweat trickled down my neck, soaking my shirt, but I dared not pull the wet cloth away from the skin. 

"Leave it be," the other man tugged his fellow's arm, "it'll act proper in a days time." The man lowered his sword, but before he turned to leave, he spat at my feet. 

"Dirty little-" he started to say, but was cut short. 

"Enough. Lady Calypso doesn't care for such words against her army." 

"Yeah, yeah." The other haughty man turned away, shoulders slouched. "Just lem'me get some fun in now and again. Alrigh'?" The two followed after the woman, muttering. I let myself relax ever so slightly. Apparently they didn't believe in rest, even when the weather was terrible. 

Outside the wind blew something fierce, pounding against the tent, sending great tidal waves of sand against the side of our large cloth dome. At least it cooled down a bit during these storms. I wasn't as uncomfortable, but the cool temperature did nothing for my throat, dry and parched. 

Once sure nobody could see, I quickly wiped at my forehead, brushing away the dried perspiration before my skin began to complain. I could already feel it begin to crawl. 

It was just then that a thought struck me; now was the ideal time to get away-make a break for it. I look around, slightly feverish. The guards were all on the other side of the tent now, breaking up a fight amongst hybrids before it got deadly, and with a storm raging outside the chances of being caught were slim. But where would I go? I had no idea where Calypso was, whether it be in barrack, tent, or Rabanastre. And I had no idea how long the storm would go on for. I pause, heart hammering, thinking about the warning I just received. If I was caught, I would be beaten. Perhaps found out. But even still, the moment was too perfect. 

I fought the urge to rush out of the tent, not that I really could rush anywhere as I felt as though I was about pass out. Slowly, carefully, I calculated what my next move was. 

I began to steadily inch my way to the tent flap, fifteen or twenty feet away, shuffling myself along so I wouldn't draw attention. To better blend in, I turn my face to the small dual going on between two hybrids and the guards trying to control them. I watch, slightly horrified, as one hybrid lashes out at the other with talons that sprung from where the hands had been, trying to rip out flesh. The guards had to quickly duck and leap away as the violence escalated. The other hybrid moved swiftly, so fast it was a blur, and from its back sprung a tail like a scorpions, spearing the other clean through. I looked away, unable to watch as the other hybrid began to writhe. But suddenly, my body tensed, momentarily becoming racked with pain, everything on pins and needles. My head snapped backward as I lost control, and I staggered over, lumbering like a drunk. My arms and legs twitch convulsively, and I fall to the ground, falling to my butt at the feet of a hybrid. I suck in air heavily, the pain fading out, and I can feel myself shaking all over as though sick. It came so fast, and ended as such. But I knew the pain well. Memorized it, every jerk, agonizing moan, and flex of muscle. 

A long low hiss comes from above, and from the corners of my eyes I can see a pair of metal boots impatiently digging into the ground. I look upwards and lock eyes with a particularly manic looking beast, and something fires in the creature's eyes. I scoot away, trying to push myself back to my feet, but only fall back down as the beastie takes a swipe at my middle with a heavy arm. I miss the blow by inches, and continue to back up, pushing my self along the sanded ground as the hybrid follows. It hisses again and takes another try at me, aiming to impress and show off for the other hybrids. Make that other guy who just killed his fellow look like a pansy. 

Again I try and stand, but have to quickly dive out of the way and a wild leg swings powerfully at me. I jump out of the way just in time, tumbling to the ground painfully. My legs and living arm bruise and ache as my armor smacks against the skin, and I wince, pain resounding in me like a cymbal on a drum. My leap gives me just enough time to get to my feet, although my legs complained with every bit of voice in them. I feel dizzy to be suddenly standing, weak kneed and faint. Green blurs of light flash around, dancing and making me feel sick. 

The creature hisses and moves in, trying to get close. I step out of his range of fire, side stepping his attack, but missing his second. A nasty fist comes up to strike my gut, and I retch as pain explodes in my middle. Even with the armor, there was nothing for it. He was too powerful. I fall to my knees, holding my stomach, trying to draw breath. The hybrid issued a satisfied hiss and circled me, as though waiting for me to stand, taunting me. He knew I was weak. That was why he picked a fight. 

The bitter taste of metal bit the back of my throat, and I fought not to vomit blood. It was hard though, made even worse by the lack of air I was in taking. I wonder where the guards are, but I doubt they've noticed. That other hybrid just picked another fight. 

Again the damned thing hisses, impatient. I rasp in my first real breath, chest sore and heavy, throat just as bad. I look down at my armor; not broke. Thank the gods. 

As the oxygen returns to my body, flooding in like starved peasants on an apple, I feel a little rejuvenated, enough so that I could steadily stand, still holding my middle. I watch the lips of the hybrid twitch slightly, the expression of delight not entirely wiped away by possession and slavery. Although it lacked speed, this being stood a formidable opponent, and if I wanted to get out unscathed, I would have to think fast and on my feet. What could I use to defend myself? Fight back? My eyes dart as quickly as they can, trying to find something to protect myself with. Our swords had been taken away after we were all herded into the makeshift shelters, and they were nowhere to be found. I started to panic, blood pressure rising and the creature gave a small snort, staring me down. And then it pounced, charging forward like a bull, meaning to tackle me into submission or even death. 

My mind went blank, numb, dead. I couldn't comprehend my situation, to shocked to do much of anything. But my body acted on its own. Without thinking about it, I kicked a face load on sand directly into the thing's face, right into its eyes. The hybrid gave a terrible cry as the beads of sand stung into its eyeballs. I darted around back, to the back of the lumbering beast which moaned and held the agonized eyes. With all the strength I could muster, I aimed a well planted kick right into the back of the beast, making it be the one to stumble to ground. Briefly, I wondered whether or not I should give him the same courtesy he showed me before, wait for him to get up, but then he had not expected much of a fight from me, and round three might prove to be a tougher trial than before. 

I follow up my first kick with a second, this time aiming for the skull, but something catches my leg. With blood shot eyes, the hybrid glares daggers, one arm firmly wrapped around my kicking leg, and slowly he stands. I hobble a bit, quickly feeling my balance slipping away. With a careless tug of his arm, I fall backward into the sand. It's his time to try and kick me, leaving no room for mercy this time. I roll over and miss the deadly blow to the head. No sooner had I dogged when a second kick caught me in the shoulder. It was weakened a bit, the creature slightly out of range, but it still would leave a bruise. 

Diving forward, closing the distance, I roll to him, and quickly sweep the legs out from under him, aiming for the ankles. It was a trick I was taught, and so long as you hit that weak spot, there wasn't anything protecting them from the force of gravity. I kicked right through, and the creature again fell heavily to the ground. By now I felt utterly at the end of my rope, not that I had had much of one. What ever adrenaline rush I had gotten, it was now worn off. With my last bit of strength, I decide to try and escape, but a firm hand comes down from nowhere, jerking me to my feet. 

"Not you too!" I hear somebody bark in my ear. "What did I tell you? Stay still!" The man snapped, finished with the fight across the way. I watch as the other hybrid is wrenched up to his feet, staggering a bit. "You're in trouble now. You think yah' can get away with that sort'ta stuff around 'ere?" He says snidely. "I tell you some'ed different. You can't go picking fights. And now yah's done it. Come on." He and a few other guards surround me and the other, getting ready to take us off somewhere. I look around frantically. 'But I didn't start the fight!' I thought desperately. I was only defending myself. A guard chains my hands together, fastening large locks to the end of either appendage. I try to say something, but find I have no voice to do so. 

"Wait." Says a gentle voice from the tent flaps. The guards immediately stop and snap around to face the intruder. I lean over to see who it is, but can only see the backs of heads blocking my view. "I never said you could chain these men and women up." The voice was soft, yet commanding, not stunned or indignant, but cool and collected. That of a woman's voice which demanded respect and adoration after every syllable. I knew that voice. I needn't not see the face to put two and two together. Slowly, I lean away, letting my helmet fall over my eyes. 

"Milady, these things-" 

"They are not things," she says, raising her voice, giving reprimand, "but men and women such as yourself. Very strong, very powerful, and very much deadly. You watch your words." 

"Yes miss." The man bows and apologizes. "This gent and lady," he corrects his mistake, carefully picking out his words, "they picked a fight. Second one today." 

"I know," she says dismissively. "and chaining them up will not solve anything. I would hope you would treat my soldiers with a little more respect, if you may." Her voice grows in conviction, but never leaves the sanctuary of the gentle and calm. 

"B-but milady, they could have done one another in!" 

"Yes, they could have. But if you let them rest, let them eat, drink even, maybe they would not act so. And what is more, I beg you keep a closer eye on my men and women, and not abuse the authority I bestowed onto you." 

"Y-yes, milady." He stammers, cheeks flushing. 

"Good. And you," guards jump in surprise as she addresses them, "fetch food, water, and provision. Let all know they may sit or sleep as they please while the storm rages. And do not keep them in such armor all day. I cannot afford to loose anybody to heat stoke." 

"Right away!" One man says, and the two rush off. Quickly and with fumbling and drunk fingers, a sentinel begins to remove my chains, and it is then, when a few people move, do I get to see Calypso. 

She stands tall, proud, back stiff, dark and wavy hair reaching her waist in fine layers. Her eyes, vacant and fogged over, look from one person to the other even though they are blind. Her lips were drawn up in a slight frown making the hollow places in her cheeks stand out. I was startled to see how thin and pale she was from when I had first left. When I had left her, her face had been full, cheeks filled out, but now she seemed whittled down to skin and bone, carved from long days of walking and fighting. And yet she was still beautiful and captivating, a woman of reverence, and still I was awed by her, although we stood on opposite sides of the line. 

At last those lost eyes met me, staring right through me, faltering to hold my gaze. I caught my breath. 

"You," She points one long and graceful finger towards me, "follow me if you will. I have something to purpose to you." With that, she turns around, hair rippling behind her. I stand a few moments, not sure of what to do or where to go. A few people shuffle out of my way, clearing a path. I suppose I have to follow. I'd much rather not. But I do. I leave in aches and pains to greet new ailments that lie behind those tent flaps. 


	42. Chapter 42

Calypso didn't think twice about diving into the sandstorm outside, and I couldn't either. Not if I wanted to keep my cover, that is. By appearing as though I was un-phased by the brutal beating of sand against skin, I would play the part of a hybrid far easier. But keeping in character was not easy. Not when your body, bruised and banged up, beat to a steady drum of a heart that wasn't entirely yours, and was made worse by the tiny stones flinging themselves kamikaze style at every inch of you they could hit.

I kept pace and squinted my eyes to protect them from the flying rubble, Calypso's black mane snapping about her tall frame feet in front of me. It was hard to see her, but I managed alright.

We reached the sanctuary of her tent, (or so I guessed it was her tent by the lavish interior) and never was I so grateful for shelter. My skin that was bare had grown irritated and red, sand filled my armor, and I was near ready to collapse. Determined to keep of stout body and mind, I tried not to slouch. A feeble attempt. I was weak kneed, thighs quivering, and aching for sleep. My body would not stand upright.

Upon first glance, I noted three other hybrids already there, wiry things wearing lighter armor than myself. They did not look at me, and quickly I looked away to Calypso who was rummaging around in a crate, her back bent over.

"Here." She said without much life in her voice. In her hands she carried thin chain mail like the other's had, a simpler and more delicate helm, and arm guards as well as shin, to which she gave to me, piling them into my arms. Our hands bumped a second, metal against skin, and I secretly wanted to touch her soft hand, feel its comfort. The comfort my mother hand given me. "I was just informing the others," she began to explain, "that you will not train with the rest. You are not made for heavy combat, but stealth. I give you this armor, and a sword there, by that trunk," she points at slowly to a sword propped against an old oaken storage trunk, "so that you may move easier and with better speed. You will need that agility for your mission.

"Rather than fight, I will have you and these three others, when the time is right, sneak into Rigveda and assassinate the emperor and his heirs. Your job is all about speed and getting in and out as fast as you can. With that slow armor and fighting style based on brute strength, your abilities would be put to ill use. So, I will have you trained differently as of tomorrow. But for now, I would rather have you rest here." Calypso looked off into space, as though gazing beyond the walls of the tent, her face passive. "This storm will rage well into the eve." She turned her sightless eyes to a guard in the doorway. "Bring water and food. They need as much strength as possible."

"Right away milady." He bows low and exits, making haste.

"And you," she looks again at me, "dress into your new armor and leave the old there." She points to a corner of the tent. "You have no need for them now. And so, if you excuse me, I will leave your four until the morrow comes." Calypso leaves, no backward glance, no other word. She merely leaves into the raging storm, not a flinch as sand beats against her frail body.

It was with a grateful heart that I stripped of the cumbersome metal, letting it fall away to reveal a sweat coated me. My clothes were still wet in places from where I had perspired, but I didn't care. None of the other hybrids seemed to notice me. They didn't once look up in my direction. Something about them seemed almost robot like. I guessed that their connection with Calypso or whoever controlled them was much stronger than the other hybrids.

I slipped on my new armor, glad for how light it felt. When the food and drink came, we were each passed the same amount: bread, cheese, a little meat, and water, and were instructed to eat. It seemed we needed permission to do everything.

Night sank upon Ivalice and cast its dark shadow over our heads as the sand storm waned, starting to die, but still a deadly fog to those who had no sense of direction. We were given the alright to sleep as we pleased, and most did so. I gratefully leaned my body back onto the sand, my bed and temporary home. Finally, I could rest, and I didn't think I would ever wake up again.

My eyes stared in a haze, unblinkingly, gazing up into the clothed ceiling. The storm blew, making the fabric upset in the ferocity. Ripples danced, folds flapped, and the pattering of sand like rain filled the tent. Two guards stood by the door, unmoving and half asleep themselves. I vaguely wonder if maybe, just maybe, I could slip away, but decide against it. I'm in no shape to venture back out there or get beaten in by a pair of thugs. My body would shatter under their reining blows. How I kept up my strength all day was a mystery even I couldn't figure out. I suppose the hybrid in me _ did _ give me some strength, at least enough to keep my feet.

Almost on cue, a shot of pain like electricity shoots from nerve to nerve. I jerk at once, gasping, my little safety bubble that I had built around myself crumbling. The agony was like a white hot poker being branded to every bit of my body, and I thought I could feel my cells catching on fire. Each muscle contracted and retracted, convulsing. All control on my body was lost, and I felt myself starting a strange sort of seizure.

"Hey!" Shouted a guard to me. "Hey, cut that out!" I couldn't hear the tone of voice he spoke in, I was too preoccupied, but a few seconds later I felt a hard kick in the side. I screamed, unable to keep it in any longer.

"Knock it off!" The other guard stormed over, pushing his fellow back. "She's still in the process of fusing. Leave her be. It'll be done in a few."

"Thought they were done with that." I hear the other mutter in disgust.

"Yeah, well we need troops, so lay off." As the man said, my body slowly began to return to normal, chest heaving, everything shaking, sweat falling from my hairline; but something in my head didn't seem right. I felt foggy, as though I couldn't process thoughts all the way. Passing it off as lack of sleep and fatigue, I curl up into a ball, drawing my legs into my chest, the shaking still rattling my body uncontrollably.

Despite the ordeal, I fell asleep quickly. Blackness closed in. I felt as though I was in a tomb.

The catacombs of my mind were shattered as a strong and firm arms shook me. It took a little while to rouse from the black, my body and soon-to-be-slave-of-a-mind pulling me backward into oblivion.

"Up you wench!" A frantic and annoyed voiced hissed from somewhere close by. "Get up 'afore I leave you to the dogs!" I shudder, body tightening, and then slowly, only once instructed to enough, do I wake. Above me a man's helmeted head comes into finer focus, his eyes blood shot and wide. "Up!" He shook me again. I moaned and sat up with some bodily protest. Dazedly, I blink at the man who squatted over me, a heavy two handed sword on strapped over his back. "Listen up." He brusquely said once sure I was awake enough to listen. I noticed that I was the only one in the tent. Had I over slept? There was light outside the tent by the looks of it, a bright orangish sunset red that crept in through the tiny fibers of the tent cloth like morning's sun rays. And I was burning hot. "I need you to get up to the castle and find Calypso." He ordered.

"Wha-? I mumble, confused. He smacked me across the face hard.

"You shouldn't be speaking unless told to!" He said alarmed. "I'm sending you back to Archades after this-but never mind, that can wait so long as you obey me." His voice again became frantic and dropped to an undertone. "Find me Calypso. Rosaria came and snuck up on us. We're under attack and can't hold 'em off much longer. You got'ta run up as fast as possible and get her." He paused for breath and pushed a small letter into my hand. It was now that I heard the screaming, the sizzling crack of flames, and the clash of swords outside. How had I managed to sleep through this? "Understand? That'll get you into the city." He said, glancing over his shoulder. "Drag her down here as fast as you can. She should be in the labs testin' stuff. Take that waterway if y'ah got'ta and tell her." I nod and scramble to my feet. The man stands as well and turns to the tent flaps. "Quick now." He mutters and disappears into the fray.

I watch as he disappears, catching a snippet of the outer world. By the looks of it, everything is on fire. I pick up my sword, still propped against the trunk, and rush outside before I can think twice about it. Running into a melee of arrows, fire, death, and destruction isn't something most people in their right minds would do.

The hazy fire light burns dim like a dying sun in the night. Many tents are engulfed in the deadly heat, and shadows of men battling men amongst the sparks of ruin fill the camp site. Everywhere is chaos. My own tent over looks the rest, upon a small hill so the fire and battle has not yet reached my station. From here, I cannot tell who is who and who is winning. All there is the tang of blood and the haze of sweat which hangs thick in the air.

I gaze off into the fight, wondering what I should do. I couldn't possibly go and fetch the last person on Ivalice who needed to know. Who I wouldn't want to know. Once Calypso arrives it would be all over and Rosaria would never win. But what was I to do? Not going would mean that I would be found out, and going would mean I was a traitor.

And then it occurred to me; I now have a free pass into the city, and that free pass means I can search over the castle, the labs, for the vial and do what I needed to do and not get hauled away for it. It was my chance.

Frantically, I look around, looking for a way out that wouldn't mean crossing through the shower of arrows reining from the sky like Armageddon.

My heart beats quicken as I fear creeps up from my toes. There were many ways into the city, I could go around the training camp and make my way to south or east. If I went through the fight, I'd surely die.

Without further adieu, I sprint away into the darkness of night, away from the stench of blood shed and scream of the dying soldier.

I ran through the Estersand as fast as I could, ignoring the hissing of monsters around me. I wasn't afraid of them, not now. Not with this opportunity. I was far too nervous to be afraid.

I followed the pinpricks of light in the distance that lined the great city, and my own eyesight seemed keener than it had been before, no doubt my the hybrids doing. Never once did I dare and stop for breath. Never once did I falter, not until I reached the gates of the city. I crept up and hid behind the city wall for a moment, watching the waters to see if anything dodgy appeared. Three guards stood watch, unaware of the ambush going on. I swallow hard and make my appearance, looking as submissive and dutiful as I can possibly make myself.

"You're supposed to be in camp." One man says, voice deep and full of authority. "Get back to bed." He commands. "We have a city to protect and can't deal with the likes of you." I fight hard not to smirk. 'A city to protect? Don't kid yourself.' I think. I extend the hand with the letter and offer it up. The sentinel almost tentatively takes it. He reads, eyes quickly drifting from side to side.

"What is it?" His companion asks. "Your face just dropped about ten shades."

"Never seen that happen, eh?" The other jokes, slight smile spreading. The two watch as the first man's face grows graver by the second, mouth a thin line. The other two slowly put down their smiles, concerned. "What is it?" There was a seconds pause as the first man finishes the letter.

"We're under attack." The man hands me back the letter, surprised and a little shell shocked.

"What?" The third guard furrows his brow and looks at the first guard as though no believing what he was saying. "We can't be! Nobody could stand up to us. Who would be that stupid?" The first nods.

"Rosaria, that's who! They ambushed us."

"There's no way they could stand a chance against our army." The second says dismissively.

"According to this letter their putting up a good fight." The man nods his head at my letter.

"What are we supposed to do about it? We have to stay here incase they attack the Southern gate. And besides, our warriors take the cake." The third answers.

"Yeah, that may be true, but the letter says it's urgent the Lady Calypso gets down there. We're outnumbered tenfold. Where's that cake now?"

"Tenfold?" The second says stunned.

"Tenfold. They play their cards well." The first looks bitter. "Damned Al-Cid."

"I am under orders to take this to Calypso." I lift the letter. "I will alarm them." The first guard looks at me with a nod.

"Good. Be fast. Go through Lowtown and enter the waterway from there. There's a passage that should take you to the castle in no time. Alert as many people as you can and get more soldiers down here. If we're attacked through this gate, we can't stand up to them."

"Yes sir." I nod.

"You," the first guard orders the second, "get the gate up and get her into Lowtown."

"Might be a good idea to send of one us to get reinforcements. " The third guard says, anxious. "Might be faster." The first nods slowly.

"Get her on her way and then run off to inform somebody while she gets Calypso." The first man pauses.

"Should I just go and find Calypso on my own instead then? I know the way better than she does, and I can alert the men in half the time." The second man offers up. The first looks from him to me, sizing us up. My hearts clenches and unclenches. I could feel a little anger and frustration starting to build. I don't have the time for this.

"That's a better idea." He says. I swallow hard. "Send her back. You," he nods to man two, "do just what you said. We'll cover this place." I finger my sword at my waist, heart palpitating quickly against my ribs. I was already close to the Lowtown gate. So close. The second guard makee as though to pull me away, but quickly, without thought or even meaning to, without any control, and with one swift movement, I drew my sword and plunged it deep into the man, and just as fast I pulled it out, quickly springing forward on the other two men.

"SPY! Come quick! Spy! Ambush!" The first screamed, but he was too slow to draw his sword in all of his yelling. Mine dug into his gullet and ripped away to stab the second guard. I moved so fast and with such strength it frightened me. I stood over the three men, sword dripping with blood, their blood on me; blood stained the ground. I looked from one dead person to the next, horrified at what I had done.

Feverishly, I look around, trying to see if anyone had witnessed the murder. Nobody had. I back up and with fumbling hands I put the sword back into its scabbard, red water dribbling over the side. I knew in my heart this would be something that would haunt me for the rest of my life. What had I done?

I back up, and turn around, running for Lowtown's gate. I had to leave as fast as I could and get to Calypso before word got around of the battle and murders. Once she knew, it would be all over.

I sprinted through tunnels of water, rats, and grime. With only a vague idea of where to go, I pelted through tunnel after tunnel, hoping I wasn't getting myself lost.

I finally come to a staircase ascending to some unknown place above. There was no gate in front of it, and it looked as though it had been used recently. Muddy foot prints led up the staircase, into the castle above. I glance over my shoulder, nervous and feeling as though I was being watched. The sensation made goose bumps rise along my back, making the hairs prickle on the back of my neck. I look back to the stair, watching it as though having second thoughts.

If I entered, there was most certainly no turning back. I ignore the urge to glance over my shoulder again, and go up the stairs, quietly, making sure that I made no sound. Above, I could see a small opening of light, a door in the floor just cracked open. No sound came from the other side, so I guessed it was safe to come up.

Once at the top of the stair, I slowly push open the door. I tentatively peek my head inside, and find I'm in a small store room, dusty and cold. A small desk sits to my left, pressed against the stone wall, and a small candle burns on top of it. Around me are crates and a few old bookshelves. Near the desk is a door, closed.

I enter the room after making sure that I am alone indeed, and close it as quietly as I can. I then lock the door behind me, making sure nobody can get in after me. I walk across the room and press an ear to the door, listening for movement outside. I can hear voices down the hall, coming closer, muffled. I lock the door, hoping they wouldn't try to break in.

"We should wake the troops soon." I hear a voice say, that of a woman.

"You're in a hurry." The other observes.

"Indeed. But somebody has to be."

"I'd hurry up." I hear a third voice say. "We have to change guards on the Southern gate soon. We're already late. I'm just surprise Lieutenant Brigges hasn't come up here himself."

"I'm sure he's on his way." The voices and feet stop outside the door. I back away slowly, looking for someplace to hide if need be. The handle jiggles a little. "Funny, it's locked."

"Sure it's not stuck?"

"Pretty sure. Handle won't budge an inch."

"Got keys here." I hear the soft jingles of metal on metal outside. I back away from the door and look around. A large heap of boxes and crates lies beside the desk. As nimbly as I can, I move to hide behind them, crouching down low. The door swings wide to reveal four, not three, soldiers.

"Look!" A guard, a woman, points to the door I just entered through. "It's locked too."

"Somebody must have come through here recently." Says another. "Thought we had orders to keep it unlocked."

"Changed the rules then?" Another asks.

"Dun'no-but let's be fast. We'll report this when we reach the gate. For now, let's just get going." The man twists the handle and the lock on the door springs free. The four of them disappear into the Garamsythe Waterway, door shutting behind them. Their footsteps die away on the stairs, and slowly, rise up from behind the crates, making my way to the door. Looking in either direction down the hall, I step out.

The gray blue of the stone seems deadly dull compared to the rest of the castle. In front of me, a ways off, is another door, blocked off by chairs and other such stuff. I make my way down the hall and stop as the very small passage leads off into a large room, a stair case leading to the upper floors on the other side. There was not much here, only a few doors here and there. What I needed was to go down to the bottom floor, that's where the labs would be.

I look back at the barred off door and find it slightly ajar, just like the door to the storage room had been. I found it strange how a door barricaded by a wardrobe and desks could be open. I make my way to it and clamber upon the furniture, wincing as my sword clangs loudly against a lamp. I hold the reverberating metal with shaking hands, deadening the sound. Listening hard and after detecting no movement, I proceed to the door and find a small gap between it and the furniture. I slowly pull the door open a bit, just enough to slip inside, and tuck myself away behind it, thankful for being so skinny.

A torch burns at the top of a staircase going downward into nothing but blackness. I take the torch and descend, noting how dry it was for such a dark place.

The stair spirals into abyssal black nothing, and I squint to see the next step, even with the torch. It went on for ages, and I hoped this was the right staircase. It was going downward after all, but there really was no way of telling.

And then I began to hear something, a faint humming from somewhere below. A faint hum coupled with the chink of glasses. My footsteps falter. Was somebody down there? I listen intently and take a careful step.

"Come on." Says a gentle voice from below. "Look for friends in dark places." It sounds as though somebody has been listening to me descend. "Your torch burns bright. I can see it, you know. Feel it more like. I've been waiting." I take a step backward, and feel myself slip. The torch cascades from my hand and snuffs out as it bounces away down the steps. Soft laughter comes up to meet me, and I hear footsteps moving away from the staircase as though whoever was speaking was now walking away.

My heart pounds loudly. What now?

"You know there's no point in hiding," the voice continues, "I've known that you were here all along, and now you've found me. Come, let us talk." The voice is further away now. I half want to run back up the steps, and half want to follow. "Just talk." I take a step forward automatically. "That's right, you cannot fight me any longer can you?" I hear the soft laughter again.

Almost against my will, I come to stand at the bottom of the steps, my torch's lifeless stick at my feet. In front of me, a little ways down a dark tunnel is a bright light; it's a room full of glass cases, pipes, tubes of amber liquid, and other strange equipment. Against the light of the room stands a dark figure, night as their cloak. I watch them turn and walk away. I follow after, knowing who the figure was.

I step into the lab, eyes watering at the intensity of the light, mind marveling at the sheer size of the place.

"Impressive, isn't it?" A light voice comes from my right. I look over and see Calypso sitting in a chair, bent over something, the small vial of green magma just in front of her. "My lab I mean. This is where everything goes on, Fidel, yes, I know it's you. This is where I've made my discoveries. And it is here that my power lies, but you know this already." She looks up with a smile on her face, almost as though she was proud. Her vacant eyes do not hesitate to penetrate right through me, and I want to run, but can't. My legs shake, but refuse to move like frightened rabbits.

"What do you want?" I ask, staring right back at her, watching her smile broaden. She laughs again, standing up and taking the vial with her.

"Haven't you guessed?" She holds the little vial up, holding it to her face as though gazing inside. I keep my mouth shut. "You know I didn't have them put as much of my blood into you. Know why?" She comes a little closer, waiting for me to answer. I don't. "Because," She says for me, "I wanted you to be in your right mind when I asked you to serve me again. I didn't want a mindless slave for my lap dog."

"I'm not serving you." I bitterly answer. "I'm here to stop you, not help you play god."

"Play god?" She smiles even wider. "Who says I'm playing? I am god. And I intend to make you one as well." She turns and walks a little ways away from me, running a hand along a large tube of amber. "There is no way to stop us, Fidel, you must have realized that long ago. You failed long ago to stop us. Nothing has changed." I slowly put my hand to the sword at my waist. "Going to kill me?" She says bemused. "I can feel your blood rising. She looks at me over her shoulder. "You're angry? Thristy for a fight? But you couldn't kill me. Not your mother."

"My mother died." I answer curtly back. "You aren't her."

"Oh, but I am the closest thing you've ever had to a mother. Do you even remember her face, Fidel, your _ real _ mother's face? Or is her face now mine?" I can feel my blood beginning to boil up, froth over. "That's right, get angry, but we both know the answer to that question. Your anger has no power over that."

"Mother or not," I say through gritted teeth, "I'm not your slave. Not your daughter, not your pet. Nothing to you."

"You know that's a lie. You don't believe that at all." She turns to face me again. "And I know you crave to join me again, be my companion like before. I can remember the day we first met, Fidelynn. You remember that day. I know you do. I know that you still dream about it at night. How you cried and wanted to be part of us. Part of me. You were weak, and I made you strong. I made you believe in hope. I made you. You cannot turn your back-"

"Shut up!" I scream, covering my ears. "Shut up! I don't need you! You're a terrible person! You killed so many people, tortured them, made them your slaves. No mother, no leader, no friend of mine would ever use their followers in such a way!" I scream. She _ was _ getting to me, inside my head, my weak spots. She knew what to say. And against my will, I was sympathizing, no matter how hard I screamed, I still loved her.

"You don't understand the half of it!" She snapped, voice cold. "Those who side with Archades must die, must suffer as I have suffered. Death is too quick, and imprisonment too easy. Slavery and servitude is the only way I may be satisfied!" Her voice cries out. "And if you do not agree, then it is time I made you one of them." She flicked up the vial's top. "Let us see what the gods make of you!" She rushes towards me, a concealed dagger in her hand. She flings the metal at me with such speed I don't have time to react. It lodges itself in my good shoulder, and I feel warm ooze run down my arm. I fling my body away from hers and dive into a table full of glass and test tubes of various liquids. Everything shatters as I dive over the table, sending everything flying. Glass showers down and acid stings my skin. I wrench the dagger painfully from my shoulder and get up, running into the sea of potions and tubes. My feet slide along on the cold marble ground, and I try hard not to slip and fall.

"You know you cannot hide." I hear her say from somewhere in the maze. I look around frantically, looking for a place to hide amongst the long tubes of amber water. But then something reaches my ears, something a off ahead of me. It wasn't Calypso's following feet, nor was it the hum of the machines. It was the bubble and rush of water. My heart skipped a beat.

Ignoring the pain in my shoulder and the trail of blood I was leaving, I sprint to the sound, weaving in and out of tubes and metal. There, twenty or thirty feet way was a large and circular pool of mist, nethicite, and magicite. The source and the vein I was looking for. Tubes fed into the large lake, sucking up the amber water. I looked up to see tubes leading away above my head, leading to some machine which would collect the rawest of all magick. I couldn't help but be in awe. Calypso's steps grow closer and I quickly hide myself behind a desk, pressing my back against it's cold metal. I waited, hand on the hilt of my sword. It was now or never.

I watched as the dark haired woman made her way into view, coming to stand beside the pool. She held the hand with the vial out, spreading her arms apart, calling out to me. "I told you I would make you a god," her voice echoes out, " a god! And what better way to do that than with the blood of a god!" I watch her, her eyes darting around, and I finally realized, believing it for the first time; she was not a mother, a friend, or anything else but an enemy. She was not the same as she once had been, and I was nothing more to her than another experiment. The power she had created was far too strong in her blood for her to use the gift of a god, but I was weak enough and sane enough to drink it in. If I died, she would simply find another who was weaker. I was her pawn. Her eyes said that much.

She stood there waiting, arms apart, a wicked smile on her face. "Come to me!" She screamed, voice bouncing from wall to wall, tube to tube. "Come and get me! I am right here." I slowly began to stand, readying myself, sword sliding out. "Afraid of me then?" My only hope was that she didn't know where I was. The energy and power began to course through my body.

'Please,' I prayed, 'let me do this.' I watched as her back turned, and I ran, sword out. I flew across the ground, screaming bloody murder, and almost as though in slow motion, I watched as she turned around to meet me, eyes still manic, and I plunged the sword deep with in her, pushing the frail body backward. I felt her blood run down to the hilt, soaking my hands. I pulled the sword from her stomach, and she staggered backward, her body falling into the amber, taking the vial of lava with her.

Calypso's body disappeared, drifting downward, her eyes still watching me, blood staining the water. My entire body quivered, tears starting to fall. She was gone-dead. For good. We were safe. But even still, I cried, hopelessly. Cried for a past now forever gone. For a woman lost to revenge, and to an Ivalice wrought with her grief, understood by me.

The amber water began to change colors, turning to a muddy brown from where the vial fell in, to a blue, to a red. It began to froth and bubble, the tubes now sucking up this new power. Slowly, the magic began to rise, and the tubes exploded, sending the liquid splashing everywhere. The ground quaked as something began to move, to change. I stumble backward, and run, run as hard and as fast as I could, leaping for the stairs.

Ivalice was screaming.

So was I.

Something inside of me felt as though it was about to split in two, as though I was being destroyed from the inside out. It was a pain that rivaled that of when I became a hybrid, and soon I was stumbling drunkenly up the steps of the stairs, dragging my legs to the upper world. I had to escape. I had to. I urged myself to run again, but it was a loosing battle. All the energy in my body was leaving.

I stagger to the door and push it open as far as it would go, wedging myself through it. I limply climb over the furniture and lumber down the hall, not sure where I was going. Dizziness spreads over me, and I wasn't sure whether it was from the wound or not. Either way, I slumped my body against the wall and slid down it, unable to go on. The room began to grow foggy, fading away to black. All I could hear was my breathing, and could only feel my body being ravaged. I fell forward like a rag doll, body shielding me from the outside world.


	43. Chapter 43

A dark purple black midnight was just visible above, the stars and moon cutting through the dense foliage. I sat on a bench in the castle gardens, watching the sky, a white blanket folded over my lap. Clouds began to drift by, and slowly, creeping up on me, came the scent of warm summer rain, the musty and yet pure smell becoming more and more common in Rigveda.

Three months had passed since my journey to Dalmasca, and I was unconscious for two and a half of those months. During the time while I slept, while two thirds of Ivalice slept, our world had changed, almost over night. The west was now a dense jungle, prone to rain. Much of the city of Rigveda had been destroyed in the Ivalice's rebirth, trees sprouting up from nowhere and crashing through homes, and many had died, from either the climate changing so fast, or simply because of the new magicks flowing through the veins of the planet were to strong. Entire species, involved in our war or not, had suddenly vanished leaving no trace. But new creatures rose up from the sea, the ground, the sky, and all thing natural to replace those dead and gone.

Those creatures who had not died, changed in some way. Viera, for example, lost their ability to hear the wood, speak to it, and feel its connection. Instead, they began to hear and see other things, other spiritual aspects of Ivalice, much of which they nor anybody else could understand. Many other races lost and gained something, and some lost but never gained. That depended on the sins committed.

Ivalice's rebirth was both a punishment and a gift. Oceans rose, revealing new lands, but swallowing up large sections of already populated land. The pirate port of Balfonheim was now at the bottom of the ocean, and so was much of the eastern cost. The wood we had entered to get the god's blood was no more than just an underwater graveyard. Fran's body was never found needless to say.

Dalmasca was now an island, isolated between the jungle of Rosaria, and the tundra of Archades.

As for the hybrids, we became a new race. I was now officially not a hume, but something closely related. Those viera or bangaa who had become hyrbid were also closely related to their mother race, but no longer were we the same species. Many hybrid had died the day the god's blood was spilled, but the rest completed their fusion. Most hybrid were taller than a hume (I had miraculously grown four inches), longer, more like a viera , but stronger and more agile. Using magick was a difficulty for our race, most likely because that kind of power had originally been what had made us. This is our punishment for abusing that power.

We still resembled our original race, each individual, so it was hard to tell who was hybrid or who wasn't. But after some generations, our image would become more of our own. I still resembled much of my old self, but my eyesight had waned. I couldn't see so well at night or day, everything fuzzy around the corners, but it wasn't so bad. I could hear better and respond quickly enough, although my left arm was still incapacitated.

Over the passed two weeks, a heavy set stone had settled in, pressing down on my chest. This change depressed me a little, was overwhelming, but it was not so much Ivalice that I was saddened over. It was the people effected by the change. And this was why I was sitting here, waiting.

When I had woken up from my coma, Al-Cid was quick to get me back on my two feet. He seemed edgy almost, unseated and unbalanced, not the way I thought a newly wed would be. I thought it was strange how he took me under his wing, but I figured it was because I was the wife of his own personal knight. When I asked for Phathe, Al-cid shook his head and told me to wait. I was curious, but left it at that.

In time, when I could listen and not daze off into a sickly state, Al-Cid told me of the rest of my fellows.

After the blood had been poured, Rosaria gained the upper hand in the war. The hybrids fighting grew tired, weak, and disoriented. Many were cut down, but many passed out too. It took the troops a while to figure out what had happened, and when the did, they began to gather the hybrids, give them a place to rest in safety, and invaded Dalmasca.

While Dalmasca was being liberated, Archades had also been under attack, this army far larger than the one attacking Dalmasca. Troops in Archades were able to take over. Penelo, Vaan, Basch, and Balthier were all recovered, although each was in coma by the time the troops had reached them.

Vaan, Penelo, and Basch each woke up around the same time, faster than myself, and recovered from their own sort of sickness relatively fast. The three of them had left four weeks ago on a recovery mission to find the Lady Ashe who was never found after the collapse of the Organization. Al-Cid said to send word once she was found, alive or dead, but so far we had come up without promise. If she had been found by somebody, it would not have taken long for her to have been identified and returned to Dalmasca, but nobody so far had said anything. Few believed her still living. While Ashe is missing, a well known politician, a woman, by the name of Aidu has taken over. She rules well, but is nothing compared to the former Lady.

On the other hand, Larsa recovered. He was the last person on the planet I believed would survive that kind of transformation, but the gods seemed fond of this boy king. Already he was healthy and back at his capital, working to rebuild and adapt his citizens to this new world. He was doing a marvelous job, much to my admiration. The gods were right in letting him live.

Last of all was Balthier, and it was with a sinking heart that Al-Cid told me of Balthier. The pirate had woken up a week or so after Vaan the rest. Balthier had apparently been withdrawn and removed from everybody else, wallowing in something he only seemed to understand. The man ostracized himself, preferring to sit in silence than interact. And then one night he disappeared. He left no word or note, just upped and left. It was very uncharacteristic of him to be so quiet and submissive, but he was a changed man, no longer the same pirate. The Balthier I knew would not have simply left without leaving some sort of a note, but when he did leave, nobody seemed surprised, and so nobody pursued him. He didn't want to be found. That broke my heart.

After learning all of this, I only had one question remaining; where was my husband?

"Fidel," Al-Cid had said to me, "I do wish to warn you before you see him-"

"Warn me of what?" I said, a little uncertainty rising into my voice. Al-Cid had just watched me for a while, shook his head, and beckoned for me to follow. I did, heart hammering.

I remember the day was humid, warm, and the misty fog just before a heavy rain had been hanging in the sky, in the air, and surrounding wood. I disregarded that uncomfortable fact as Al-Cid walked me down the corridor. I felt almost sick with anticipation and worry. Al-Cid's face had never been graver.

"Fidel," he said to me again, "I ask you to brace yourself." He paused and when next he spoke, it was soft and gentle. "There is nothing... we can do." I swallowed, voice unsure of how to form words. The door slowly opened.

I peered inside, and had found a nurse standing over a chair. This chair held a boy, almost a man, an almost-man I knew well. I turn to Al-Cid, feeling confused. He nodded over towards Phathe.

"Go see for yourself. Nurse, come away." The nurse looked up, a little taken aback, but did not dare disobey her lord. She left; I entered.

I approached Phathe, his curly brown hair seemed to by limper than I had once imagined. I came around to the front of him, his front facing a window. I knelt down so I was where his eyes met the floor. He did not look up at me once. And then I noticed that he was tied in place, hands and chest strapped back to the chair.

"What is this?" I said alarmed and disturbed to Al-Cid in the doorway, and I pointed to the ropes holding Phathe.

Al-Cid did not answer at once. "There was nothing, is nothing," he said again, "we can do. You see, his mind could not keep up with the change, so he lives inside of himself. He cannot function beyond what he needs to do in order to survive." I stare at Al-Cid, not hearing but hearing. What did all of that mean?

I looked back to my husband, then to the king once more. "I will leave you." Al-Cid softly said and shut the door behind him.

I glanced back at Phathe's lifeless face, and started watching his chest rise and fall softly as he breathed. He was pale, so pale, and seemed dead. The more I took in, the less I recognized, and the more I began to understand that he was not coming back. He would not speak, nor smile, nor laugh, nor love again.

Tentatively, I had taken my hand and touched his cheek. He did not respond to my touch. I began to cry. My head fell on his knees, and I took a hand of his in my own good one, running his fingers through my own.

Phathe had suffered what seemed to be the worst punishment of them all; being alive enough to live. Not being able to see the world we lived in, and all because of a stupid mistake. I imagined how awful it must have been to have been caught and tortured until broken. How terrifying it must have been to have seen the monstrosity of the Organization on his own. And it was all done because he was concerned about me. I ached at that thought. Somehow, I felt responsible. If I had not married him, bound him to myself, used him, this may have been prevented. My own sin was greater than his, and for this I could not understand the reasoning of the gods. Why punish him so severely but not me?

As his wife, I felt as though I should shoulder some of this, take some of the blame, but I could not. He was someplace I could not follow.

"I am sorry we could not see the ocean." I had whispered to his lap. From there, I began to tell him everything, my own selfishness, how I had used him to make Balthier jealous. Although I knew he could not hear me, something inside of me felt relieved. A weight lifted, and somehow I felt calmer, something inside seeming to click. After that moment, I was not the same person. I knew what I had to do.

I kissed him goodbye, his lifeless lips never really touching mine, and I left. I vowed never to return to see him again. That was not Phathe, and the real Phathe would hate for me to see him like that. Never again would I return, but forever I would be his wife. My own punishment was this: watch him suffer, withering but live, and inside I would wither with him, alive to watch it, even if I could not be there to take it with him. I accepted this.

And so here I sat, alone in the castle gardens, watching a changed sky. I had been thinking. I felt restless. My mind had been drifting to Balthier, but not in the same way as before. He must have felt restless too. Something had called to him, and I could feel a cry calling to me from somewhere.

There was nothing for me here, nothing to stay for. My heart wanted to go away, see a new land, a new place. I was dreaming of a sky, a reason, a purpose to live by. See my new home, and explore the new lands.

I was thirsting for something more. My own anxious heart burst to see more, feel more. There was _ more._ Ivalice was my treasure, I had helped to save it, and so therefore I was part of it.

I was aching for it.

Bleeding for it.

Living for it.

I was dreaming of it. Dreaming like the sky pirates do. Dreaming of that sky, that horizon.

_ I left that night. _


	44. Chapter 44

Eight springs, eight summers, eight falls, and almost eight winters had gone by. Just about eight years since the day I left Rosaria in search of better things.

Much of those eight years had been spent traveling to different lands, new and old, and places across the sea. Places much of our people, Dalmascans, Archadians, and Rosarians, had not seen. What tied our Ivalice together, made us one, was how we all suffered and prospered from the changes our world had experienced. Many cities had fallen, towns erased, but new ones were built upon the ashes, and lives sprouted new roots. Ivalice had entered a period of calm rebirth and exploration.

Society had been restarted, and everyone had been given a second chance. Not one person was about to pass that redemption up.

Eight years, seven and a half of those years, I had spent wandering around and finding my own peace of mind. But as of recent, I came back to settle down for a while in the place where the Phon Coast once had been. Much of that old land was now below the sea, but people had rebuilt the town that once had watched the ocean.

The air was frosty, snow newly fallen. Large pine trees held up with great arms tons of snow which would tumble to the ground when a large gust of arctic wind rushed passed. It was one of those frostbitten days where the breath you drew and released could be seen for miles. This winter was a hard one for the Phon Coast, but it's villagers were the hardy sort.

I had taken a job in an inn beside a small wood, nestled away from the rest of town. It was modest and humble, made of wood and smelled of freshly cut trees. The lights coming from each window would blink and invite the chilled townspeople in for a drink or two and maybe a warm piece of scone.

I worked in the kitchens, cleaning pots, a little bit of cooking here and there, and would prepare the fires in people's rooms and the main lobby. The work was tedious, but the pay was well enough.

Right now I had busied myself in a pot, meticulously trying to scrub away the caked on grim of melted cheese. My hands worked tirelessly at it, and occasionally I would raise the pot and pick at the grime, brow furrowed as I sank into thought.

"Fiddy!" Came a pleasant voice from the door. I look up to see my coworker, a young blonde girl who's about 19 or so. She stuck her head into the kitchen, cheeks rosy from the nipping wind outside. "Fiddy, Miss Finch needs you to go fetch up some wood. You might need to chop a bit." She says, a little nervously. It, after all, was frightfully cold out there.

"How much wood?" I say while removing myself from the pot and taking off the apron from around my waist.

"At least two good arm fulls Finch says." The young girl steps into the kitchen and ties an apron around her neck. "I'll take over while you fetch the wood."

"Much appreciated." I smile and move to pick up my woolen shawl and gloves by the back door.

"Wait, Fiddy," she calls to me, "careful out there. And I don't just mean the cold. Townspeople say a pirate sailed in last night during the storm. Or so they think a pirate. What one would want with our little town, don't ask me. But watch your back, and take the bigger hatchet just in case."

"Thanks for the warning. I'll watch out." I stoop down to pick the up the heaviest and the biggest hatchet.

"And don't freeze!" She shouts as I step out into the cold, the back door swinging back and forth behind me. Instantly I can feel my legs begin to shake with cold, nose turning a tomato red. It is then I am glad that I let my hair grow out. I don't have a hat, but my hair keeps my ears relatively warm.

Towards the edge of the wood is the chopping block, and next to it is a well stacked pile of uncut wood.

I put the small ax by the stump for cutting wood and pick up a few small logs, making a tiny pile by the block. After my first wooden victim is ready, I swing down with the hatchet, and the log splits clean in two. I put on another log, and proceed to whack the wood into fire burning pieces.

Then softly, suddenly, from behind I hear crunching in the snow. _ Wham. _ I cut another log. The crunching grows louder, coming from about maybe fifteen feet behind me. _ Crack. _ Another log falls to the snow. I just hope it isn't too wet to burn.

I hesitate before swinging again, listening to the approaching person slowly trekking through the nine inches of well packed snow. But there was something different about this person. Something that spoke of pride and duty. Something that had a meaning to it, unlike most of the people here who lumbered through the snow from one odd job to the next. This person hesitated, but not in the way one would expect. All of this was determined by just the way they approached me from behind, and yet said no greeting.

I did not turn around, just stuck the hatchet in the stump and waited. The crunching stopped about seven or eight feet away from me. For the longest time, nothing was said. Only the wind spoke, and that was in harsh tones not fit for the aura building. I heard my approacher take one more step, and then they spoke.

"I heard what you said that day," he starts, "but I did not know it would be our last meeting for the next eight years. And now I rather regret not answering you."

"What exactly do you regret not answering too?" I ask. "I said many things, and whether you responded or not made no difference to me."

The man sighs. "What I responded to did not matter, does not matter, to me either. But I still think it wise to maybe have said something, being it our last meeting after all."

"You didn't know that."

"Alas, I had some hunch. But I went where the sky led me. You did the same I have learned." The pirate spoke in a much different way than that I had remembered. His voice was tired, worn, and held much of the same thought as mine own did. But it was clear that eight years had refined Balthier.

"I did indeed." I confirm, now turning to face him. His face was worn down, still the same clever expression as always, but he had aged a little, face set in a resolve none but he would understand. "And I came back."

"So it seems." He inclines his head but a little. "Fidel, not saying something to you before you left was a mistake. I have no intention of denying it." He says frankly. "But it was not words of encouragement that I wanted to say. Nothing of the sort. For the last eight years I have been looking for exactly what I wanted to say, and now I have found it."

"I'm listening." We look at one another for a few moments, and he takes another steady step forward, snow cascading from his boots.

"It was foolish to continue this lie. I do not think I could have kept it up any longer." I watched as his breath floated up into the canopy above. "I did care about you Fidel, more than I let on. Understand, I was and am foolish for continuing the facade for this long." He offers his hand out to me. "Will you take it?" He asks.

A small and bitter smile creeps onto my lips. Slowly, sadly, softly, I shake my head, looking at him with remorse. "You have come eight years too late I am afraid. My heart has waned like the ever changing moon. Your hand is better spent on a woman who can give you hers."

The silence that fell like the gently sweeping snow could not and can never be expressed by words. Bitter it was, but it was stronger than bitter. And the sweetness was of a kinder type.

Balthier's hand slowly lowered itself.

"Somehow," he said, looking to the skies above wistfully, "I knew this would be my answer." He nodded a few times. It began to snow again. "I apologize for troubling you with this puny matter." He glanced back at me with his pirate smile, clever and cunning. "I will not bother you again. Farewell, Fidel." With that he turned away.

I put my back to him and took up the hatchet once more, knowing he would be as good as his word. This was a treasure neither of us were meant to have.

* * *

Intwilight : _Well so ends the series. This is my original ending that was published on Quizilla, but many people have expressed a desire for a happier ending. I have toyed with the idea of writing a new ending, or at least adding more stuff to the end of this one to make it more sentimental. I like the sadder ending, it's different and fits Fidel (her redemption after her mistakes), but I might write up or change this version. It's just hard to get back into the frame of mind after so many months have gone by. But I might try :-) Anyway, Adieu! _


End file.
